THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


NINEVEH, 


THE   BIRTH   OF   BURNS, 


TWO  ESSAYS, 


^Ttb  rrt^tr  ^oms  nvcb  ^ontttts. 


EDWARD  GEORGE  KENT. 


"  I  am  no  poet,  or  a  wit,  or  sage, 
For  numerous  failings  dwell  upon  my  page ; 
But  as  truth's  simple,  if  it  reigneth  there. 
Ye  learn'd  reviewers,  pray  my  volume  spare." 

E.  G.  K. 


BOSTON  :  JOHN  MORTON, 

PRINTER,  BOOKSELLER,  AND  STATIONER,   MARKET  PLACE. 

LONDON :  SIMPKIl^T,  MARSHALL,  AND  CO. 

1859. 


[entered  at  stationers'  hall.] 


UOSTON:  JOHN   MOETON,   MARKET   PLACE. 


PR 


/nr\^ 


TO 

JOHN  AETHUR  ROEBUCK,  ESQ.,  M.P., 

(by  permission.) 
THIS     LITTLE     WORK 

%'j  DrMrairir, 

WITH    DUE    SUBMISSION    AND    SINCERE    RESPECT, 

BY 
HIS  VERY  HUMBLE  AND  OBEDIENT  SERVANT, 

THE  AUTHOR. 


816664 


PREFACE. 


It  may  seem  strange  that  I,  blessed  with  so  few- 
advantages  of  wit  or  genius — requisites  so  indispen- 
sable in  these  aifairs — should  present  to  the  public  a 
volume  of  unfinished  effusions ;  and  I  certainly  feel 
abashed  at  the  reception  it  deserves  in  those  illus- 
trious circles  in  which  it  has  been  my  good  fortune 
to  secure  its  introduction.  I  am  but  seventeen 
years  of  age  ;  consequently,  my  kind  readers  cannot 
wonder  at  the  lack  of  stage  thoughts  and  ideas, 
better  known  to  more  experienced  persons.  To  the 
public  I  am  nearly  unknown,  except  through  the 
columns  of  different  papers  to  which  I  have  sub- 
scribed my  futile  compositions. 

The  first  title  I  selected  for  my  little  work  was 
"  May  Fair,  and  other  Poems,"  but  being  only  partly 
acquainted  with  the  legends,  traditions,  &c.,  of  this 
ancient  borough,  I  thought  it  advisable  to  defer  that 
portion  for  sundry  corrections  until  a  more  seasonable 
opportunity.  My  poem  on  the  birth  of  Burns  was 
certainly  a  scanty  ear  by  the  side  of  the  cereal  gem 
of  Miss  Craig,  but  as  it  was  allowed  to  contain  a  little 
corn,  that  authority  of  justice  amply  rewarded  its 
lowly  author.  My  "Twa  Brigs  of  Boston"  is  in 
humble  imitation  of  the  Caledonian's  "  Brigs  of  Ayr," 
intended  to  show  the  respect  and  deference  due  to 
old  age  from  youth,  an  important  matter  too  often 
forgotten  by  the  runagates  of  human  life.  But  as  it 
would  occupy  too  large  a  space  in  commenting  on 
the  different  portions  of  my  little  volume,  in  a  word, 
I  beg  to  say  it  has  been  my  sincere  desire  to  spread 


VI  PREFACE. 

throughout  the  whole  one  general  system,  which  is 
the  aim  at  truth  and  virtue,  expunging  all  remarks 
that  would  be  likely  to  produce  simple  fancies  in  the 
minds  of  my  young  readers,  endeavouring  to  esta- 
blish on  its  page  the  grand  principles  of  justice  and 
morality  ;  to  delineate  the  varied  beauties  of  nature, 
and  faithfully  to  represent  the  prominent  features  of 
our  versatile  appearances  in  the  vale  of  life ;  nor  has 
my  little  work  been  the  result  of  undivided  labour, 
but  has  been  composed  after  the  duties  of  the  day  in 
the  important  business  to  which  I  belong;  and,  I 
admit,  my  studying  powers  have  too  frequently  left 
me  in  the  care  of  peaceful  Morpheus.  Together 
with  the  difficulties  I  have  had  to  encounter,  and 
my  early  age,  I  hope  my  readers  will  consider  those 
facts  equivalent  to  the  faults  and  inaccuracies  con- 
tained in  this  little  compilation.  As  it  is,  so  I 
commit  it  to  their  kind  notice  :  for  every  word  I  am 
answerable,  therefore,  if  worthy,  I  hope  to  receive  a 
favourable  recommendation ;  if  not,  it  is  their  duty 
to  cast  upon  me  the  contempt  I  deserve.  With 
profound  respect,  and  under  sincere  obligations  to 
my  esteemed  patrons,  my  agents,  and  my  publisher, 

I  humbly  remain. 

Their  dutiful  servant, 

Edwaed  Geoege  Kent. 

Apeil,  1859. 


CONTENTS. 


Preface 
Nineveh  : — 

Part  I.      . 

Part  II. 
Human  Life  : — 

Part  I.      . 


PAGK 

V 


1 

6 


Part  II 14 

The  Birth  of  Burns 20 

On  the  Arrival  of  Dr.  Mackay  from  America,  1858  .     27 

The  Death  of  Havelock 29 

The  Final  Search  for  Sir  John  Franklin  .         .         .31 
On  the  Launch  of  the  Electric  Submarine  Tele- 
graph, 1858 33 

Lines  on  Standing  upon  the  Belfry  of  St.  Botolph 

at  Sunrise 35 

37 
38 
39 
41 
42 
44 

46 
49 
50 
51 
52 
53 
65 
67 
68 
60 
61 


Wisdom  in  Old  Age 

The  Slave 

Christmas 

Another  on  Christmas      ...... 

On  Walking  by  the  River  Slea  before  Sunrise 
Daybreak         ........ 

The  Greeting  of  the  Australians  to  the  Primrose  of 

England 

"  Old  Age,  I  Fear  Thee  Not  " 

The  Morning  Star    . 

The  Home  of  My  Fathers     . 

The  Soldier's  Dream 

Our  Native  Isle    . 

Lincoln  Cathedral    . 

Harvest  Home 

Childhood        .... 

The  Uncertainty  of  Life 

The  New  Year 


VUl                                             CONTENTS. 

PAOE 

On  the  Past  Year 

65 

Peace       

.     67 

War 

69 

On  the  Memorial  Window 

.     71 

The  Twa  Brigs  of  Boston     .... 

.        73 

Spring 

.    77 

Remember  Death 

78 

The  Tyrant  Pike 

.    79 

Essays  : — 

Happiness 

.     81 

84 

Sonnets : — 

A  Spring  Morning        .... 

.     90 

Summer   ....... 

90 

Autumn 

.     91 

Winter     ....... 

91 

Pride 

.     92 

Contentment 

92 

Friendship 

.     93 

On  the  Death  of  the  Rev.  G.  Crabbe 

93 

Roebuck's  Speech  on  the  Conspiracy  Bill,  1 

358    .     94 

To  a  Miser 

94 

Childhood 

.     95 

Christmas                   .                   ... 

95 

Time 

.     96 

Faith                 

96 

Hope 

.     97 

Charity 

97 

April             

.     98 

Human  Life 

98 

Evening                

.     99 

War     .     .                 

99 

Peace                    

.  100 

Truth       

.       100 

Despair 

.  101 

The  Sabbath 

.       101 

Boston  Church 

.  102 

A  Sonnet  on  the  remains  of  Sleaford  Castle 

.       102 

Life 

.  103 

Death 

.       103 

NINEVEH. 


'TwAS  when,  as  vapours  of  the  gloomy  night, 
The  wicked  actions  of  the  Ninevite 
"Went  upon  high,  God  said  to  Jonah,  "  Go 
And  warn  the  city  of  its  overthrow  :" 
But  he  the  heavenly  order  disobey' d, 
And  to  the  little  port  of  Joppa  fled, 
Where  he  embark' d,  another  land  to  find  ; 
But  on  the  sea  God  sent  a  raging  wind, 
"Which  furious  o'er  the  troubled  waters  blew. 
While  sudden  fear  beset  the  heathen  crew, 
Who  safe  deliverance  of  their  gods  implor'd ; 
Each  sought  the  pity  of  his  idol  lord ; 
And  while  they  cast  their  goods  into  the  deep. 
The  man  of  God  lay  in  the  craft  asleep. 
Lo !  unto  him  in  time  the  master  came, 
Of  him  inquir'd  his  country  and  his  name. 
And  said,  "  Entreat  thy  God  to  change  our  lot. 
Call  on  His  name  that  we  may  perish  not." 
Nor  did  the  Euler  of  the  tempest  please 
Even  then  to  still  the  raging  of  the  seas  ; 
Till  they  at  last  to  throw  in  lots  agreed. 
From  whom  or  whence  the  evil  did  proceed. 
They  threw,  when  lo  !  by  their  ill  omen  read, 

B 


2  iriNE\T:H. 

The  evil  fell  upon  the  stranger's  head. 
"Now  two-fold  fear  possessed  eachstalwart  frame, 
Again  they  ask  his  country  and  his  name  : 
He  ansAver'd,  "la  Hebrew  am,  and  fear 
The  word  of  God — why  I  have  jouruey'd  here." 
They  next  inquire,  "  "^Tiat  must  we  do  to  thee, 
That  we  may  calm  the  billows  of  the  sea  ?  " 
He  said,  "0  take  my  body  up  and  cast 
It  in  the  deep  ;  no  more  the  storm  shall  last :  " 
But  yet,  much  sooner  than  a  life  would  take, 
The  men  row'd  hard  the  shore  in  sight  to  make. 
Alas  !  in  vain ;  the  unseen  hand  of  Him 
Who  dwells  between  the  holy  Cherubim 
Kept  them  from  following  up  their  goodly  will. 
And  in  the  troubled  waters  held  them  still. 
Now  each  crav'd  pardon  of  his  god,  and  said, 
"  0  take  the  blood  of  this  man  off  my  head !  " 
Behold,  they  took  the  prophet  up  and  threw 
Him  in  the  sea.     ^STo  more  the  tempest  blew  j 
The  winds  were  silent,  and  the  mighty  deep 
Lay  as  reclining  in  a  chilly  sleep. 
Their  little  bark  in  safety  sailed  along, 
They  rais'd  to  Heaven  a  heart-rejoicing  song  ; 
For  they,  poor  heathen,  saw  the  hand  of  God, 
And  felt  the  power  of  His  mighty  rod ; 
They  saw  the  mercy  of  His  heavenly  hand, 
As  they  alighted  on  the  ocean  strand. 
But  0  !  what  must  the  fate  of  Jonah  be, 
Who  in  the  depths  of  the  unfathom'd  sea 
Was  headlong  plung'd  to  seek  a  watery  grave  ? 
Yea,  there  he  found  a  gracious  hand  to  save — 
The  hand  of  Him,  who  in  the  depths  profound 


KINEVEH. 


Eesides  the  same  as  on  the  common  ground, 
Prepar'd  a  fi?h,  who  as  a  morsel  prey'd 
Upon  his  whole.     He  in  its  belly  laid 
Three  days  and  nights,  and  to  the  mighty  Lord 
His  prayer  in  purity  of  mind  he  ponr'd. 
Yea  !  to  the  holy  temple  of  his  God. 
The  weeds  were  wrapp'd  around  his  troubled  head 
As  in  the  courts  of  hell  he  made  his  bed. 
He  left  the  earth  for  ever  in  his  chase 
'Mid  ocean  caverns,  and  the  mountain's  base. 
He  sought  the  courts  of  Erebus  and  fled 
Where  instinct  guide  of  truth  the  monster  led. 
But  lo  I  the  fish,  by  God's  divine  command, 
"Was  by  a  wave  cast  far  upon  the  strand ; 
It  vomits  forth,  and  as  His  will  before, 
The  Prophet  walk'd  upon  Assyria's  shore. 
Again  the  word  of  God  unto  him  came  : 
"  Go  to  the  city  now ;  to  all  proclaim  : 
For  when  the  space  of  fifty  days  is  here. 
They  shall  my  works  behold  with  troubled  fear : 
For  as  the  vapours  of  a  guilty  night. 
So  are  their  wicked  doings  in  my  sight." 
Lo !  he  arose  and  to  the  city  went, 
To  all  he  cried,  "  Turn  from  your  ways,  repent; 
For  God  hath  said  unto  his  servant.  Go 
And  warn  the  people  of  their  overthrow ! 
For  I  will  cast  her  helpless  on  the  plain. 
That  mighty  place  to  rise  no  more  again ! 
For  as  the  wrath  of  my  ill-kindled  ire, 
So  shall  my  acts  partake  consuming  fire. 
Tho'  in  their  trouble  they  do  loudly  quail, 
Yea,  none  shall  live  to  tell  the  mournful  tale." 

B   2 


4  NINEVEH. 

So  Jonah  told  the  people  of  their  state, 

And  warn'd  them  of  their  near-impending  fate, 

"When  lo  !  the  king  of  Nineveh  arose, 

And  cast  away  his  robes  and  princely  clothes ; 

Throughout  the  city  he  proclaim' d  a  fast. 

They  put  on  sackcloth  from  the  first  to  last ; 

From  God's  avengeful  threat  they  shrunk  appall' d, 

And  on  His  name  for  true  forgiveness  call'd. 

So  when  God  saw  that  from  their  evil  ways 

They  tum'd  and  to  Him  ofi'ered  up  their  praise. 

Then  He  repented  at  His  firm  decree. 

And  tum'd  His  heart  in  favour  of  their  plea : 

"  For  shall  I  turn  this  city  into  hell  ? 

When  six  score  thousand  scarce  the  numbers  tell," 

He  said,  "  of  those  who  cannot  yet  discern 

The  right  from  wrong,  who  have  their  state  to  learn ; 

With  many  cattle  on  her  favour'd  hills, 

And  bleating  flocks  beside  her  flowing  rills." 

So  God  forgot  the  covenant  He  made, 

And  long  Assyria's  blasting  rod  delay'd' 

But  now  the  servant  of  the  Lord  was  wroth 

That  He  had  failed  to  send  His  angel  forth, 

And  prayed  thus  :   "  0  God,  my  life  receive, 

For  'twould  be  better  than  I  here  should  live  ; 

That  is  the  reason  I  before  did  flee. 

Because  I  knew  the  kindness  great  of  Thee." 

How  vain  the  thought  possess'd  his  mortal  frame 

To  wish  for  honour  by  a  city's  flame. 

So  Jonah  went  unto  the  eastern  side, 

And  built  a  tent  wherein  he  might  abide 

To  see  the  angel  of  the  Lord  descend 

In  fiery  clouds — the  city's  awful  end  ! 


NINEVEH.  O 

The  heat  being  great,  God  caused  a  gourd  to  grow, 

Beneath  the  shade  glad  Jonah  felt  'twas  so ; 

But  when  he  rose  upon  the  future  day, 

Ate  by  a  worm,  it  withered  away. 

The  sun  beat  hard  upon  the  Prophet's  head  ; 

Again  he  said,  "  0  God,  that  I  were  dead  !  " 

Lo !  unto  him  again  the  holy  word 

Eeturn'd  :  "  0  man  !  if  this  poor  simple  gourd, 

Which  thou'st  not  made  to  grow,  demands  thy  pity. 

Shall  not  the  thousands  of  this  mighty  city 

By  their  repentance  claim  the  love  of  God, 

And  swerve  the  fury  of  His  falling  rod  ?  " 

But  soon,  alas  !  the  wicked  Ninevites 

Forgot  the  word  of  God,  and  sought  delights 

In  Satan's  service  ;  to  their  former  ways 

They  tui-n'd,  and  to  their  idols  offered  praise. 

When  lo !  the  vision  of  the  Elkoshite 

Told  :   "  God  revengeth  in  His  holy  might. 

And  sayeth  thus  :   '  A  jealous  God  is  ours. 

To  anger  slow,  yet  terrible  His  powers  ! 

Lo  !  in  the  Avhirlwind  rests  His  holy  seat. 

The  clouds  are  dust  beneath  His  hasty  feet ! 

The  sea  recedeth  at  His  glorious  sight ! 

The  rivers  shun  the  presence  of  His  might ! 

The  mountains  quake,  and  as  the  molten  tin 

The  hills  do  melt ;  the  earth,  and  all  therein, 

Are  burnt  !     Who  can  the  fierceness  of  his  ire 

Withstand,  or  brave  the  fury  of  His  fire  ? 

But  yet,  the  Lord  is  good,  and  in  the  day 

Of  trouble  kind  to  all  who  Him  obey.'  " 


NINEVEH. 

PART  II. 
THE    T)ESTEX7CTI0N    OF   THE    CITY. 

Lo  !  now  the  vengeance  of  the  Lord  went  forth ; 

The  fire  was  kindled  of  his  fearful  wrath : 

The  day  arrived  when  His  imperious  word 

Must  seek  its  answer  in  the  murd'rous  sword. 

Across  the  sky  the  dreadful  lightnings  flash ; 

Her  falling  turrets  in  the  waters  dash  ; 

"With  mournful  fear  her  wicked  people  see 

God's  great  denouncement  of  their  misery  ; 

With  fearful  eyes  behold  His  judgment  come, 

And  weep  to  see  the  horrors  of  their  doom ! 

Their  God  is  angry,  and  no  more  the  day 

Of  their  destruction  will  He  now  delay, 

But  at  His  word  His  angel  goeth  forth 

And  deals  His  vengeance  on  the  sons  of  earth. 

The  Tigris  rushes  o'er  her  mighty  walls, 

The  fir-trees  shake,  the  idol  temple  falls ; 

In  crimson  blood  the  Persian's  shield  is  dyed, 

Throughout  the  streets  the  conquering  Chaldees  ride 

With  flaming  torches,  while  the  cries  of  night 

Add  startling  terrors  to  her  dismal  plight. 

Her  site  is  alter'd  to  a  gory  plain, 

They  stumble  o'er  the  many  heaps  of  slain, 


UINEVBH. 

While  princes  stagger  in  their  drunken  dream, 
Their  riches  swell  the  vast  polhited  stream, 
The  place  of  bloodshed  and  the  den  of  lies. 
In  vain  her  people  call  in  pitying  cries. 
For  tribulation  in  its  darkest  form 
Conducts  the  horrors  of  her  ending  storm ; 
Her  ruler  falleth,  while  his  mighty  host 
Of  sinful  captains  mingle  with  the  dust ; 
Her  roll  of  shame  their  Maker's  hand  unfurl' d, 
Held  as  a  caution  to  the  wicked  world. 
Upon  her  ways  the  rattling  chariots  run ; 
In  vain  the  sword  the  poor  lost  victims  shun, 
For  as  the  locusts  on  the  midday  air, 
The  mighty  host  of  her  besiegers  were. 
The  storm  ariseth  as  the  desert  wind. 
It  passeth  o'er,  and  nought  is  left  behind, 
For,  lo  !  the  cloud  from  heaven  doth  descend   • 
With  flaming  fire,  and  brings  her  awful  end. 
In  vain  to  her  was  great  Egyptia's  might ; 
The  strength  of  Ethiops,  though  'twas  infinite, 
Could  not  relieve  her  when  the  Persian  host 
Proclaim' d,  in  joy,  her  bloody  contest  lost. 
Her  strength  departed,  as  a  drop  of  rain 
So  fell  the  famous  city  of  the  plain  : 
No  voice  survived  the  ruin  to  bewail, 
No  herald  lived  to  tell  the  mournful  tale; 
And  they  who  in  the  paths  of  Satan  trod 
Now  saw,  alas  !  that  Jonah's  Lord  was  God. 
No  more  they  fill  their  guilty  cups  with  wine ; 
No  more  they  worship  at  the  idol  shrine  ; 
No  more  they  sound  the  clamours  of  their  mirth. 
But  mourn  with  grief  the  moment  of  their  birth. 


8  NOTEVEH. 

High  in  the  clouds  the  glaring  flames  uplight, 
And  show  the  horrors  of  the  awful  night ; 
The  mighty  river  rolls  in  stormy  mood, 
Her  heaving  waters  tinged  with  human  blood, 
While  hungry  vultures  settle  on  the  plain. 
And  ravening  wolves  devour  the  mangled  slain. 
Lo  !  there's  no  healing  for  the  grievous  bruise  ; 
The  nations  all  a  pitying  tear  refuse  ; 
And  as  a  rock  beneath  the  Stygian  sea, 
"Whose  dangerous  form  no  human  eye  can  see, 
Or  as  a  flower  that  fadeth  on  the  plain 
By  none  observed,  or  as  the  summer  rain, 
So  was  the  glory,  Nineveh,  of  thee 
Laid  waste  in  shame  by  His  divine  decree. 
Thy  merchants,  many  as  the  stars  that  stud 
The  paths  of  heaven,  thy  men  of  royal  blood — 
Yea,  all  thy  strongholds — as  a  barren  tree, 
Before  the  fire  of  Heaven's  vengeance  flee. 
Alas  !  they  learn  their  awful  lot  too  late, 
Eepent  in  vain,  and  ponder  o'er  their  fate, 
For  God  hath  spoken,  and  the  gates  of  hell 
Were  open'd  wide — the  guilty  city  fell. 
Oh  !  as  a  warning  may  its  fearful  end 
To  every  nation  of  the  world  descend. 


3D«<3e 


HUMAN  LIFE. 

A  POEM  IjST  blank  VEKSE,  IN  TWO  PAETS. 

PART  I. 

"  Green  as  the  bay-tree,  ever  green, 
With  its  new  foliage  on. 
The  gay,  the  thoughtless,  have  I  seen ; 
I  passed,  and  they  were  gone." — Cowper. 

Argument. 
The  wisdom  of  the  Creator — His  just  laws — His  great  and 
holy  design — The  sorrows  and  troubles  he  awardeth  to  us 
in  our  earthly  pilgrimage  below  for  our  benefit  hereafter. 

0  JiAN ! 
Hast  thou  lived  here  so  long  as  this, 
And  ne'er  inquired  from  whence  thou  came, 
Or  what's  the  object  of  thy  being  ? 
The  great  design  of  Him  who  dwells 
Above,  who  holds  the  orbs  of  light, 
And  guides  revolving  worlds  in  tracts 
Of  boundless  space,  who  holds  the  roll 
Of  wise  decree,  of  sacred  law, 
Thy  steps  to  guide,  thy  ways  to  keep, 
In  holy  fear,  from  greater  hurt 
Of  that  vile  spirit  who  thy  heart 
"Will  hard  beset,  at  last  descend 
"With  some  fair  prize,  some  tempting  bait, — 
Then  thou  the  law  must  keep  in  mind, 


10  HUMAN  LIFE. 

And  hedge  around  that  vast  progenitor 
Of  every  action,  deed,  and  thought ! 
Think  not  the  course  of  thy  career 
Is  smooth  and  fair.     Alas  !  though  roses  grow 
In  different  parts,  the  piercing  thorn 
Upholds  its  hardy  head,  and  takes 
The  sweetness  of  the  perfume  off. 
Gives  thee  a  pain  to  bear ;  when  it 
Hath  passed  away,  another  more 
'  Vexatious  cloud  of  care  appears. 
And  hurts  thy  chance,  once  good. 
Away  !   thy  views,  which  once  appear' d 
Resplendent,  now  are  clothed  in  dark, 
Obscmnng  shades  of  gloomy  storms, 
Who  break  in  fury  on  thy  head. 
Till  lastly,  overwhelm'd  with  pain. 
Vexatious  grief,  and  care,  thou  sink'st 
Beneath  the  weight. 
But  if  thou  seest  where  the  storm 
Of  tribulation  takes  its  rise, 
"With  loving  heart  thou  own'st  the  just. 
Unerring  ways  of  Providence,  and  thank' st 
Thy  Maker  for  the  storm,  the  bitter  taste 
Of  life,  that  in  perfection  true  thou  canst 
Its  varied  sweets  enjoy. 
"Who  was  it  brought  thee  forth,  and  gave 
Thee  life,  so  sweet,  so  verified. 
So  admirable,  and  so  truly  just  ? 
Who  gave  thee  reason  for  thy  use  below, 
To  aid  thee  in  the  path  that  leads 
To  fairer  worlds  above  ? 
For,  as  the  lighthouse  on  the  lonely  rock 


HUMAN  LIFE.  1 1 

Serves  the  poor  mariner  for  a  guide 

Through  raging  and  tempestuous  seas, 

And  lastly  brings  him  safely  through 

The  rolling  billows  of  the  mighty  deep, 

So  it  directeth  thee,  and  lastly  lands 

Thee  on  the  peaceful  shore,  where  storms 

Rage  not,  where  tempests  ever  sleep  ! 

Who  was  it,  Avhen  the  tempter  touch' d 

The  elbow  for  thy  own  compliance, 

And  to  thy  mind  proclaim' d : 

"If  thou  obey'st,  these  noble  palaces. 

These  verdant  plains,  through  which  the  streams 

Of  fortune  flow^,  these  dazzling  thrones, 

These  everlasting,  all-enduring  gems 

Of  earth  and  life,  if  thou  acced'st 

Unto  my  will,  all,  yea,  all !  are  thine  "  ? 

Who  placed  within  thine  heart  the  word 

Of  Heaven's  avowed  sanction  ?     No  ! 

Who  show'd  to  thee  the  all-destroying  fruits 

Which  grow  upon  that  tree,  though  to  the  eye 

Well  they  appear  ?     But  once,  yea,  once, 

If  thou  thereof  doth  taste,  alas !  alas  ! 

The  spirit  of  thy  holy  might  hath  flown, 

Thy  reason  faints,  while  evil  beings  drag 

Thy  poor  forgotten  body  to  the  dark 

Abode  of  devils ! 

Then,  man,  I  say,  for  reason  at  the  hands 

Of  God,  impart  thy  gratitude  to  Him, 

And  thank  ;  thy  fate  is  made  divine 

Through  Him,  and  not,  through  Satan,  black  ! 

And  next  inquire.  Where  can  I  behold 

The  good,  the  holy,  and  the  great  design 


12  HUMAN  LIPE. 

In  giving  me  temptation?,  trials,  here  ? 

In  planting  nettles  on  the  walk  of  life, 

In  placing  rocks  my  voyage  to  obstruct, 

Or  casting  vain  delusions  at  my  feet  ? 

Though  my  poor  futile  pen  will  fail,  I  doubt. 

In  here  describing  the  Almighty's  wish  ; 

Yet,  as  I  write.  Fate  rule  it  just.     It  is  : 

When  man  upon  the  stage  of  life 

Appears,  a  portion  of  his  time  is  spent 

In  idle  toil,  in  foolish  training. 

Till  he  arrives  in  time  at  every  point 

Expert,  as  earthly  laws  denounce. 

But  let  us  see  him  in  the  race  of  life  : 

The  signal  falls,  he  starts  ;  alas ! 

'Tis  false  ;  the  sandal  of  his  foot 

Is  loosed.     Lo  !  he  attempts  again. 

He  goeth  not  far  before  a  lovely  saint— 

Of  earth,  I  mean,  not  one  sublime, 

Though  fair — saluteth  him. 

At  once  his  heart  is  wrapt 

In  love.     He  plays  his  part 

In  this  alluring  scene  :  delightful 

Are  the  imprecations  of  his  mind. 

This  passes  off;  he  journeys  on. 

Lo  !  Fortune  at  his  feet  appears,  and  brings 

Him  riches,  wealth,  enticing  baits, 

From  her  great  master.     Now  he  stops. 

And  loscth  sight  of  his  performance 

In  the  earthly  race. 

But  now,  alas  !  the  sable  nymph  of  sorrow 

Visits  him  in  her  ill-omen'd  form : 

He  falls,  the  chequer' d  victim  of  her  rod, 


HUMAN  LIFE.  13 

And  casts  away  the  smiles  of  fortune. 
In  earnest  once  more  to  begin  his  race, 
He  goeth  on  a  while,  till  she  withdraw' th 
Her  rod.     Alas,  he  once  more  sinks 
Into  the  slumber  of  his  sinfulness. 
And  near  forgets  his  Maker  lives. 
"While  dire  affliction  intervenes, 
(If  not  too  harsh,  'tis  well,) 
He  reasons,  and  well  ponders 
O'er  his  fate,  repenteth  much, 
And  lives ; 

But  if  misfortune  aims  the  deadly  blow, 
Alas,  alas !  he  dies,  and  truth,  too  horrid,  teUs 
no  tale. 


fl> 


-©DK3&- 


14 


HUMAN  LIFE. 

PART  II. 

"  Look  on  this  picture ;  and  on  that." — Shakspeaee. 

Aegument. 
'Tis  wrong  to  paint  the  scene  of  human  life  too  dark  :  'tis  not 
a  desert,  or  stormy  voyage,  a  scene  of  wretchedness,  a 
wilderness,  or  a  gloomy  travel. 

But  'twould  be  -wrong,  yea,  wrong  indeed, 

To  paint  the  human  scene 

A  scene  of  woe  ! 

Or  deem  those  laws  unfair 

By  our  Creator  given,  in  love, 

For  our  enjoyment  and  our  good. 

The  earth  is  not  a  desert  wild ; 

For  it  hath  rolling  streams 

That  weave  the  songs  of  love 

In  rippling  through  the  plain  ; 

For  it  hath  fruitful  trees 

Wlio  bend  their  forms  for  man, 

And  cast  their  fruits  so  sweet, 

So  beautified  by  nature. 

Beneath  his  lordly  care ; 

For  it  hath  graceful  brutes. 

Though  far  more  powerful  and  strong 

Than  man.     Yet,  by  that  law 

So  good,  so  truly  given 

By  God  himself. 


HUMAN    LIFE.  15 

They  lack  that  mighty  art, 

They  lack  that  heavenlj^  gift 

Of  man,  his  power  of  thought 

And  instinct,  so  remain 

Subservient  at  his  will. 

The  cup  of  human  life 

Is  not  a  cup  of  bitterness ; 

It  giveth  many  sweets 

To  those  who  drink  aright. 

'Tis  not  the  draught  that's  wrongly  mingled, 

But  'tis  the  drinker's  fault ! 

Some  drink  too  deep, 

And  swallow  all  at  once  ; 

Confused  and  bitter 

Are  the  draughts,  to  those  ; 

While  others  sip,  like  poison'd  wine, 

The  draught,  desire  no  more, 

And  by  their  puny  hearts 

E'en  shun  the  whole  ! 

In  vain  they  think  the  sweets 

Are  separate  from  the  rest, 

For  so  it  cannot  be  ! 

They  spend  their  years  in  useless  toil 

To  seek  the  blushing  rose  that  grows 

Without  a  piercing  thorn. 

Life's  not  a  stormy  voyage  all  throughout, 

Though  wild  the  tempests  rave. 

And  tierce  the  stormy  winds 

Drive  through  the  tatter' d  sails, 

Though  harsh  the  sea-  gull  cries, 

And  dark  the  evening  reigns, 

In  sable  terrors  wrapp'd. 


16  HUMAN   LIFE. 

In  time  the  tempest  rests, 

In  time  the  whirlwinds  cease, 

In  time  the  evening's  tumults  seek 

The  shades  of  sunlit  dawning, 

And  there's  a  radiant  morning 

And  there's  a  glorious  calm. 

'Tis  not  a  scene  of  wretchedness, 

Or  broken-hearted  plight ; 

The  weeping  mother  may  be  pitied 

As  she  bids  her  only  son 

Adieu !  who  quits  his  homely  hearth 

To  share  the  perils  and  the  toils  of  war. 

But  still  swift  Time  is  on  the  march. 

When  few  chapters  flee  the  roll 

Of  age. 

Her  darling  son, 

Her  imaged  love, 

"Who's  braved  the  countless  list 

Of  perils,  and  survived  the  fight 

Of  desperate  carnage. 

And  escaped  the  scythe 

Of  Death, 

Returns ! 

She  weepeth  not  for  grief, 

But  joy! 

Those  tears  she  shed  long  since, 

For  frantic  madness, 

Trickle  down  in  happy  flowings 

From  her  delighted  checks. 

How  blest  the  meeting  is  ! 

Is  this  a  gloomy  scene  ? 

No,  'tis  a  ray  reflected  from  the  sky. 


HUMAN  LIFE.  17 

A  beam  of  heavenly  light, 

To  cheer  the  lot  of  human  fate, 

And  tell  there  is  a  God, 

Who  knowcth  every  thought, 

Who  seeth  every  heart. 

The  world  is  not  a  wilderness 

Of  barren  shrubs,  or  limpid  streams, 

Or  cruel  gales,  which  blow  upon 

The  weary  pilgrim,  and  in  night 

Do  strike  him  from  its  path, — 

For  mark  the  orphan  child, 

With  empty  wallet  on  his  back. 

And  tearful  eyes,  doth  start 

Into  the  ways  of  life,  alas  ! 

With  bitter  pangs  of  hunger  oft  oppress'd  ; 

And  oft  the  sound  of  stern  denial 

Doth  ring  those  ears  of  innocence  ! 

He  sees  the  cotter's  meal 

Upon  the  whitewash' d  board, 

With  cheerful  fire  and  frugal  fare ; 

Though  all  is  still,  he  enters  not. 

Is  not  that  a  mind  of  valour, 

Is  not  that  a  heart  of  honour. 

Living  in  that  careworn  child  ! 

Who,  spite  the  pangs  of  hunger, 

And  the  dense  calls  of  thirst, 

Dares  not  intrude,  and  take  thereof? 

For  he  is  well  aware 

'Tis  bad  to  beg  his  bread, — 

But  still,  yea,  better  far 

Than  steal. 

He  journeys  on ;  in  time  his  mind 

c 


18  HUMAN   LIFE. 

Is  made  aware  of  various  means 

To  earn  his  scanty  crust ; 

He,  with  his  little  sum 

Acquired  hy  anxious  toil, 

Now  seeks  a  better  mart. 

He  buyeth  in  a  stock  ; 

From  door  to  door  he  wends 

His  weary  course,  to  tend 

His  little  merchandise 

For  coin  or  welcome  bread. 

In  time,  industry  clothes  his  back ; 

In  time,  hard  labour  weaves  his  bed, 

And  peaceful  slumbers  rest  his  frame. 

No  loathsome  hut  he  seeks  at  night 

To  rest ;  he  has  a  Home. 

'Tis  well  he  goeth  on  aright, 

And  mounteth  up  the  hill  of  life  ; 

The  orphan  boy  becomes  a  noble  man  ; 

The  child  forlorn  becomes  a  citizen ! 

His  latter  days  are  radiant ; 

His  end  of  life  is  happiness. 

Is  this  a  gloomy  scene  ? 

For  by  the  love  of  honesty — 

For  by  the  love  of  fame — 

AH  can  mount  the  hill  of  life ; 

All  can  see  the  voyage  through ; 

All  can  taste  its  many  sweets  ; 

All  can  of  its  joys  partake. 

'Tis  not  a  gloomy  scene,  I  say. 

Where  friendship,  love,  and  mirth, 

Where  honour,  peace,  and  bliss. 

Are  given  by  Him  who  for  us  made 


niTMAJSr  LIFE.  19 


This  wondrous  world, 

And  who  hath  said, 

If  we  obey  His  holy  word 

Whilst  we  remain  on  earth. 

His  love  upon  us  pours; 

But  when  we  quit  the  stage  of  life 

Eternal  joy  is  ours ! 


;■><?©— 


c2 


20 


THE  BIRTH  OF  BURNS, 

THE  CALEDONIAN  BAED. 

Written  for  the  Festival  held,  January  25th,  1859,  by 
THE  Honourable  Crystal  Palace  Company  at  Syden- 
ham, BEING  the  Centenary  of  his 'Birth. 

Lo  !  duty  blest,  the  soul  of  Britain  fires, 

While  love  sincere  her  high-born,  muse  inspires, 

For  Time  hath  brought  kind  Mem'ry  on  his  wing, 

And  years  have  wrought  the  oracles  we  sing. 

The  day  has  come  when  Caledonia's  pile 

Of  high  Parnassus  from  the  sea-girt  isle 

Deserves  a  line,  a  highly  worthy  line, 

To  grace  the  tablet  of  her  minstrel's  shrine. 

0,  ye  who  dwell  on  Albion's  favour' d  shore, 

Attune  your  lyres,  and  play  his  praises  o'er. 

Ye  poets,  laud  his  memory,  ever  dear, 

Whose  tomb  recalls  a  universal  tear. 

Ye  British  bards,  respect  his  honour'd  name; 

From  dark  oblivion  now  restore  his  fame ; 

For,  mark,  'twas  not  upon  the  dazzling  throne — 

A  prince — Minerva  claim'd  her  fav'rite  son  ; 

'Twas  not  a  chief  who  ruled  a  martial  train, 

Or  bright  commander  of  the  wat'ry  main  ; 

But  in  the  humble  service  of  the  plough 

She  found  her  champion,  there  around  him  threw 

Her  graceful  robe ;  to  him  the  guiding  rein 


THE  BIRTH  OF  BURNS.  21 

She  gave  to  lead  the  chariots  of  her  train. 
Unknown  to  fume,  a  simple  rustic  swain, 
And,  as  a  fiery  comet  of  the  night 
Eolls  on  with  train  of  vast  illumined  light, 
Though  first  a  speck  upon  the  sky  appears, 
Around  the  world  its  wondrous  circuit  steers, — 
So  he  arose  ;  and,  as  a  flickering  spark 
Throws  forth  a  light  when  all  around  is  dark, 
But  kindles  gently  to  a  brilliant  flare, 
With  dazzling  flame  illumes  the  midnight  air, — 
He  gather' d  light :  at  length  his  glorious  ray 
Turn'd  Scotland's  night  of  sable  reign  to  day. 
'Tis  with  regret,  0  worthy  bard,  we  see 
Ourselves  unfit  to  rightly  honour  thee, 
Who  bless'd  the  scroll  with  magic  arts  profound, 
While  envying  nations  cast  their  eyes  around. 
Thy  name,  0  Burns  !  while  worthy  memories  steer 
The  poet's  pen  to  mark  a  bright  career, 
While  through  the  skies  majestic  planets  roll. 
While  Hope's  blest  spirit  cheers  the  pensive  soul, — 
Shall  live  a  guide  ;  while  Time's  vast  work  is  o'er. 
Admiring  kingdoms  shall  thy  name  adore. 
Long  o'er  thy  loss  will  grateful  Scotland  weep, 
And  England  cast  her  blessings  on  thy  sleep ; 
Yea,  on  this  day  Hibernia  strikes  the  string, 
Thy  glorious  acts  her  children  nobly  sing ; 
While  Clio  o'er  the  universe  shall  wield 
Her  mystic  rod, — thou  art  her  chosen  shield. 
Now  thou  hast  fled  these  earthly  courts,  while  we. 
Like  as  the  moon,  with  borrow'd  light,  from  thee 
Derive  our  beam  of  wit.     0,  could  thy  pen 
Eush  in  my  rhyme  and  gild  my  humble  strain. 


22  THE  BIRTH  OF  BITENS. 

Then  would  I  match  the  noble  prince  of  lay, 
Nor  fear  the  laureate,  or  the  great  Mackay, 
But  win  the  palm  of  Helicon  to-day. 

"Well  may  Old  England  dance  in  seemly  joy, 
And  laugh  in  mirth  to  think  the  Highland  boy 
First  saw  the  light  where  her  imperial  wand 
Eesides  in  peace  and  owns  beloved  command. 
Well  may  she  gladden  at  the  glorious  sight, 
And  sweep  her  lyre  in  tunes  of  gay  delight. 
To  count  the  gem  of  Caledonia's  shore 
Amongst  her  jewels.     Yea,  for  evermore 
We  will  uphold  the  myth  of  Shanter's  tale, 
"While  pilgrims  swarm  the  vast  Parnassian  vale  ; 
While  loving  thought,  or  Hornie's  ode  divine. 
Shall  live  avow'd  or  yet  be  called  to  min', 
We'll  pledge  a  cup  of  kindness  dear 

To  auld  lang  syne. 

Though  Scotland's  warriors  long  remember'd  be, 
Though  Bruce  and  Wallace  crown'd  her  history, 
And  graced  the  standard  of  her  martial  fame, 
Their  glory  fades,  few  relics  tell  their  claim ; 
Their  mighty  shields,  the  swords  they  dipp'din  blood. 
Are  eaten  up,  while  in  Time's  rolling  flood 
Their  memories  sink  :  though  each  as  Hector  brave, 
Pew  are  the  tears  shed  on  the  conqueror's  grave ; 
Yet  there  dwelt  one  in  Scotland's  bonnie  isle, 
"Unknown,  unheard  of  in  his  quaintly  style, 
A  highland  swain,  who  own'd  Apollo's  might, 
Clothed  fair  Olympus  in  a  robe  of  light ; 
He  placed  his  country  in  the  foremost  line 


THE  BIETH  OF  BUENS.  23 

Of  earth's  inspired  ;  bid  her  for  ever  shine 

While  her  famed  mountains  raise  their  sno'wy  heads, 

While  her  smooth  lochs  flow  o'er  romantic  beds, 

While  merry  maidens  through  her  valleys  straj'. 

While  ivy  weaves  its  tendrils  on  the  spray, 

So  long  the  song  of  auld  acquaintance,  dear 

To  Burns,  shall  rise  in  tuneful  accents  clear  ; 

So  long  her  bards  shall  swell  the  glorious  strain, 

Revive  his  laurels  as  the  summer  rain  ; 

So  long  her  nymphs  shall  strike  the  magic  string. 

And  tune  their  hearts  his  godly  acts  to  sing. 

0,  may  the  portals  of  the  heavens  move, 

Receive  his  spirit  in  the  realms  of  love. 

Remember  well  this  festive  day  doth  bring 
A  century's  burden  on  Time's  fiery  wing; 
To-day  one  hundred  years  desert  the  stage, 
And  quit  the  era  of  the  fleeting  age, 
Since  Burns  appear'd  amongst  the  dust  of  earth. 
Since  Fate  devised  the  hour  of  his  birth, 
Since  hearts  were  gladden'd  in  the  rustic  dome. 
When  Fortune  smiled  upon  the  Highland  home, 
She  blest  her  smile  in  Heaven's  familiar  strain, 
And  lit  her  torch  on  Ayrshire's  frozen  plain ; 
She  built  her  temple  by  the  bonnie  Doon, 
Whose  waters  slept  beneath  the  wintry  moon. 
'Twas  night  when  Nannie  and  the  witches  danced — 
For  joy  around  their  boiling  cauldrons  pranced  ; 
Quick  on  their  brooms  thej^  flew  across  the  air. 
And  fiU'd  the  sky  with  one  infernal  glare ; 
When  wraiths  and  goblins  lined  the  fearful  way, 
And  spirits  throng'd  the  kirk  of  Alloway ; 


24  THE  BIETH  OF  BTJENS. 

That  night  a  meteor  cleft  the  midnight  air, 
Of  brighter  cast  than  Etna's  fearful  glare. 
'Twas  then  the  herald  of  auspicious  love 
Alighted  in  the-  Caledonian  grove. 
She  says,  "  Let  me  the  Muses'  sweets  distil ; 
I'll  plant  a  vineyard  on  the  barren  hill." 
As  thus  she  spoke  her  noble  act  was  done ; 
Euterpe  gloried  in  her  infant  son  ! 

Ye  great  adorers  of  departed  fame, 

Who  merit  Cicero's  phrase,  or  Pliny's  name  ; 

Ye  who  in  raptured  fancy  all  admire 

The  pen  of  Homer  or  the  Theban  lyre, 

Gird  up  your  ardour ;  now,  I  say,  adore 

And  laud  the  ploughboy  of  your  neighbouring  shore, 

"Whom Heaven  hath  tuned  amid  the  speechless  throng, 

AVhom  Nature  gave  sincerity  of  song. 

0  !  wonder  not ;  behold,  his  living  charms 

Shall  Ions  survive  the  fate  of  Scotia's  arms ! 


■'o 


Yes !  in  that  glorious  cause,  for  ever  strong. 
The  name  of  Burns  shall  form  the  poet's  song ; 
Though  Time's  vast  currents  swell  and  roll  away, 
Shall  still  survive,  and  suffer  no  decay. 
May  England  e'er  on  his  remembrance  dwell, 
Deliffht  the  world  his  noble  worth  to  tell. 


^o^ 


0,  may  the  flambeau  of  terrestrial  flame 
This  day  uplight  the  Scottish  minstrel's  name. 
Children  of  Albion,  join  the  festive  thi-ong — 
Yea,  all  unite  and  swell  the  glorious  song. 


THE  BIKTH  OF  BURNS. 

"We  meet  not  here  to  laud  a  tyrant's  reign, 
But  tune  our  efforts  to  a  brighter  strain ; 
We  meet  not  here  to  praise  the  glorious  dead, 
"WTio  in  the  contests  of  their  country  bled, 
But  here  behold  fair  England's  chosen  few 
The  path  of  virtue  in  its  course  pursue. 
This  day  the  temples  of  the  Muse  shall  quake. 
This  day  the  forum  of  Diana  shake. 
May  Heaven  regard  each  poet's  humble  rhyme 
A  noble  effort,  and  the  world  sublime. 

Rejoice,  ye  sons  of  Britain,  now  rejoice 

That  Sydenham  echoes  forth  Concordia's  voice  ; 

Rejoice,  I  say,  that  Science  holds  a  court 

Amid  her  bowers,  and  Art  a  fair  resort ; 

Record  this  day  upon  your  queendom's  page 

A  blest  occurrence  on  the  roll  of  age. 

Mark  well  the  time  when  Burns  upheld  the  strain 

Of  British  Muses  in  their  wond'rous  train; 

Remember  well  the  patriots  who  have  wrought 

This  kind  memorial — have  the  nations  taught 

That  Shakespeare  ne'er  beneath  Victoria's  sway 

Shall  die  a  slave,  or  Milton  sing  away 

Forgotten  ;  but  while  love  retains  the  lead, 

"While  Science  weaves  a  wreath  around  her  head. 

So  long  shall  gratitude  demand  a  tear, 

The  dying  laurels  of  her  dead  to  cheer. 

Such  is  our  purpose  on  this  festive  time. 

Such  the  frail  whisper  of  my  humble  rhyme ; 

However  humble,  yet  if  it  doth  keep 

His  mem'ry  fresh  who  in  death's  torpid  sleep 

Doth  rest,  the  claim  of  justice  then  is  paid, 


25 


26  THE  BIRTH  OF  BUENS. 

The  call  of  tender  gratitude  obey'd, 
To  cast  the  tribute  of  a  world's  returns, 
And  light  the  tomb  of  Caledonia's  Burns. 
Adieu  !  may  Heaven  bear  witness  to  this  scene, 
And  gild  in  truth  the  sceptre  of  our  Queen  ; 
Long  may  she  reign,  and  while  the  King  on  high 
Doth  bid  the  world  increase  and  multiply, 
May  England  lead  the  universal  choir 
Of  love,  and  tune  to  heavenly  strains  her  lyre, 
While  worlds  revolving  in  their  courses  turn, 
May  she  revere  and  grace  her  minstrel's  urn ! 

But,  list  ye  here,  we  must  not  worship  man ; 
Let  it  suffice  to  note  the  famous  plan. 
To  keep  the  memory  fresh  from  age's  chime, 
The  son  of  Orpheus  or  the  son  of  rhyme. 
But  that  is  all ;  no  licence  here  is  given 
To  raise  a  mortal  to  the  ranks  of  heaven. 


'£*3e 


27 


ON   THE   ARRIVAL   OF    DR.    MACKAY 
FROM  AMERICA,  1858. 

Welcome,  0  son  of  sweetest  rhyme, 

Thou  foremost  of  the  noble  band  ; 
Best  wishings  of  the  western  clime 

Pursue  thee  to  thy  native  land. 
Fair  minstrels  light  thy  lamp  of  fame, 

Their  blessings  on  thy  merits  throng, 
While  mystic  muses  laud  thy  name 

With  honours  of  poetic  song. 

Rude  storms  and  tempests,  cheerless  rain, 

Pass'd  thy  favour' d  vessel  by  ; 
Angry  winds  and  hurricanes 

Rode  in  peace  along  the  sky. 
Nature's  children,  well  delighted, 

Echoed  o'er  the  liquid  seas 
Truths  which  never  can  be  slighted — 

Fill'd  in  joy  the  peaceful  breeze. 

In  blissful  tones  thy  genius  claim'd 

Amazement  from  the  wond'ring  throng; 

Earth's  enraptured  lists  proclaimed 
The  merits  of  thy  British  song. 


28  ON  THE  ABEIVAL  OF  DK.  MACKAY. 

0  !  could  I  trace  the  records  o'er, 
Or  scan  the  roll  of  flying  age, 

Thy  wisdom  far  above  would  soar, 
And  swell  the  glories  of  the  page. 

In  pride  the  stars  of  western  might, 

Gay  in  response,  rejoicing  smiled, 
"When  visions  of  serene  delight 

Beset  thy  heart  in  fancies  wild. 
'Twas  then  the  true  and  hallowed  flame 

Of  love  relax'd  thy  inmost  thought. 
Held  up  to  view  thy  nation's  fame. 

The  world  thy  fathers'  glory  taught. 

0,  let  us  hail  thy  blest  return 

"With  songs  of  mirth  and  festive  glee. 
And  may  that  flame  for  ever  burn 

Of  Britain's  honour'd  liberty  ; 
May  Fortune  speed  thee  on  thy  way, 

Guide  thee  safely  on  the  road ; 
Wisdom  grant  its  brightest  ray. 

And  lead  thee  to  yon  bright  abode. 

Let  Britain  smile,  while  thousands  pour 

Their  blessings  on  the  prince  of  lay ; 
Her  children  on  the  western  shore 

With  living  laurels  crown  Mackay  ; 
English  lyres  witness  keep. 

Throw  out  his  praise  in  tunes  serene. 
While  o'er  peaceful  zephyrs  sweep. 

And  gild  the  glories  of  the  scene. 


29 


THE  DEATH  OF  HAVELOCK. 

Rest,  noble  Britain,  rest ;  be  Heaven  obey'd, 
Since  human  discord  is  tbc  dire  delight 

Of  Death,  who  now  o'er  thee  extends  his  shade, 
Pernicious,  cruel,  regardless  of  thy  right. 

Pew  warriors  merit  more  distinguished  grace 

Than  thee,  as  godlike  sprung  from  Hector's  race. 

Thy  matchless  courage  we  bewail  the  more, 

Who   when,   though    tens   of  thousands   were 
deprest 

By  doubt,  thou  conquer'dst  on  that  hostile  shore, 
And  set  thy  country's  trembling  mind  at  rest. 

Even  men  unborn,  with  ages  yet  behind, 

Shall  rid  their  praises  on  thy  glorious  mind. 

Alas,  how  rough  life's  journey,  how  uneven  ; 

How  fierce  that  cruel  monster  of  the  tomb ! 
Virtue  itself  can't  change  the  fate  of  Heaven, 

Or  Britain's  hero  yet  in  life  would  bloom. 
Havelock,  warrior  of  thy  Queen  and  State, 
"We  mourn  in  sadness  thy  untimely  fate  ! 

Of  martial  heroes  no  vain  shadow  thee  ; 

The  guilty  sepoy  trembled  at  thy  name ; 
With  fearful  looks  beheld  thy  victory, 

And  stamped  in  glory  was  thy  crest  of  fame. 
Alas,  thou  suffer'dst,  cruel  Death  to  please, 
And  fell  beneath  the  sceptre  of  disease. 


30  THE  DEATH  OP  HAV BLOCK. 

Though  Heaven  proves  merciful  to  us,  yet  we 
Must  now  regret  our  melancholy  fate, 

And  lastly  hope  He  has  assigned  to  thee, 
Who  dwells  on  high,  a  far  more  blest  estate 

Than  we  could  ever,  though  we  fain  would  give, 

Had  Fate  designed  thee  still  on  earth  to  live. 

With  sacrifice  before  the  rising  morn. 

On  India's  plains  by  fruitful  hope  inspired ; 

Prom  camps  of  peril,  and  'mid  shades  forlorn 
Of  night  thou  slaughter  of  their  host  required ; 

But  still  thy  actions  good,  as  well  as  brave. 

Could  not  elude  the  malice  of  the  grave. 

To  thee  thy  country's  tears  are  ever  due  ; 

Her  lonely  barks  upon  the  silent  sea 
Shall  dye  their  standai'ds  in  the  darkest  hue. 

And  chant  thy  death  in  doleful  melody. 
Whose  name  shall  live  beyond  the  stress  of  years. 
And  mem'ry  die  when  Time  but  disappears. 

Angel  of  truth,  thy  sacred  wings  explore ; 

Bequeath  to  England  vict'ry  o'er  the  storm 
Of  dark  rebellion  on  the  troubled  shore 

Of  India,  and  display  thy  radiant  form. 
Coupled  with  virtue,  mayst  thou  ever  be 
Her  brightest  guide  to  all  futurity. 


31 


THE   FINAL   SEARCH   FOR  SIR  JOHN 
FRANKLIN. 

People  of  Britain,  may  it  be  your  pride, 
And  great  your  pleasure  to  obey  the  call 

Of  love's  last  efforts,  hopeful  to  confide. 
Alike  awake  to  duty  one  and  all ; 

Exert  yourselves  in  sympathy  to  cheer 

A  painful  sufferer  through  seditious  fear. 

In  this  attempt  shall  ever  grim  Despair, 

"Whilst  one  faint  trace  of  life  encheers  the  sight. 

Once  strive  to  place  its  desolating  lair, 
Or  on  our  fate  be  suffer'd  to  alight; 

But  Hope,  like  trees  whose  stately  branches  form 

An  ample  shade,  shall  brave  the  wildest  storm. 

0  Time,  cease  thy  quick  course,  no  longer  roll, 

If  lamentations  fill  the  human  heart. 
Or  latent  feelings  seize  the  mortal  soul 

Of  man,  or  he  denies  his  common  part. 
But  now  may  Fortune  in  her  goodness  reign, 
And  shining  glory  in  the  case  maintain. 

May  the  inconstant  goddess  us  behold 
As  warriors  ready  for  the  zealous  fight 

Of  love's  endearments — mysteries  to  unfold, 
All  threatening  fears  to  rid  and  put  to  flight. 


32  THE  FINAL  SEARCH  FOE  SIB,  J.  FEANKLIN. 

And  ye,  0  Britons,  may  ye  live  to  see 
Your  efforts  crown' d  with  brilliant  victory. 

For  by  the  country  that  ye  all  adore, 

"With  joyless  thoughts  how  can  ye  turn  aside, 
"Whilst  under  Heaven  a  rich  kingdom's  store 
■**  For  such  a  worthy  eifort  can  provide. 
But  all  unite  ;  may  signal  glory  be 
Your  actions'  witness  in  eternity. 

And  if  that  day  arrives,  that  glorious  day, 

Clouds  of  dark  hope  dispense  ;   unite  no  more, 

For  ye  must  fall  the  overpower'd  prey 
Of  perseverance  and  kind  mercy's  store. 

Earth,  though  oft  has  mourn' d  the  painful  past. 

Shall  then  rejoice,  for  Heaven  gilds  the  last. 


— ©s 


^r-e 


33 


YE   WARRIORS    OF   BRITAIN. 

A  MILITARY  ODE. 

Ye  Warriors  of  Britain, 

JS'ow  tempests  cloud  the  day, 
Your  country  seeks  your  aid  again 

To  fight  her  noble  way  ; 
Your  mighty  cannon  charge  again — 

Bid  them  terrific  sound, — 
And  rush  to  the  charge, 

"When  the  grape  flies  thick  around, 
When  the  furious  battle  rages  fierce, 
And  the  grape  flies  thick  around. 

The  courage  of  your  fathers 

Shall  light  your  lamps  of  fame. 
And  crown  you  with  the  honours  true 

Of  Great  Britannia's  name  ; 
Ye,  with  your  bright  Commander, 

Hise  at  the  trumpet's  sound. 
Your  loyal  rights  defend. 

When  the  grape  flies  thick  around, 
When  the  furious  battle  rages  fierce. 
And  the  grape  flies  thick  around. 


34  TE  WAESIOES  OF  BEITAIN. 

0  tell  the  rebel  Hindoo, 

Your  flags  you'd  sooner  wave 
In  peace,  than  take  away  his  life, 

And  trample  on  his  grave  ; 
But  tell  him  to  beware, 

"When  he  hears  the  battle  sound, 
If  he  fights  against  you 

When  the  grape  flies  thick  around, 
When  the  furious  battle  rages  fierce, 
And  the  grape  flies  thick  around. 

But  0,  ye  famous  warriors. 

Though  still  the  camp-fires  bum, 
The  troubled  night  shall  yet  depart, 

A  brighter  day  return, 
A  bumper  to  Sir  Colin's  health 

Shall  pass  the  circle  round. 
All  hail,  that  peaceful  day 

When  no  grape  flies  thick  around. 
When  the  rage  of  the  battle  hath  died  away, 
And  no  grape  flies  thick  around. 


35 


LINES  ON  STANDING  UPON 

THE  BELERY  OF  ST.  BOTOLPH'S 

AT  SUNRISE. 

I  STOOD  upon  thy  tow'i'  when  heaven's  arch 
Was  glorious  in  the  sun's  returning  march ; 
No  sounds  awoke  the  silence  of  the  street, 
The  peaceful  borough  slumbered  at  my  feet  ; 
The  distant  woods  seemed  bright,  and  placid  gales 
Rushed  forth  in  sweetness  o'er  the  sun-clad  vales ; 
"While  far  above,  in  gladsome  blush  of  day. 
The  early  lark  resumed  its  tuneful  lay. 

Such  was  my  vision  at  the  early  dawn 
Of  day,  when  Sol  lit  up  the  cheerful  morn ! 
I  hear  below  the  rolling  waters  dash 
Upon  the  beach ;  I  see  the  whirl  and  flash, 
As  just  in  sight  the  crested  waves  advance, 
The  frothy  spume  upon  their  ripples  dance ; 
The  merry  clamour  of  the  seaman's  song 
Salutes  my  hearing  as  he  glides  along. 

In  time  I  see  from  chimneys  here  and  there 
White  clouds  of  smoke  quick  vanish  into  air  ; 
While  from  thy  noble  form  the  mighty  chime 
Repeats  our  wai-ning  of  the  passing  time ; 

d2 


36        LINES  UPON  THE  BELFKY  OF  ST.  BOTOLPh's, 

And  as  I  look  below  it  is  but  just 
To  breathe  a  blessing  on  the  sleeping  dust, 
Who  long  have  cast  away  their  earthly  bloom, 
And  lie  forgotten  in  the  silent  tomb  ! 

I  think  I  hear  the  voice  of  sable  knights 
Pronounce  their  anger  from  thy  dizzy  heights  ; 
Their  noisy  accents  yet  my  ears  assail. 
And  wake  the  echoes  of  the  peaceful  vale. 
But  as  I  mused  the  flitting  time  had  flown, 
That  bade  me  from  the  pleasing  scene  begone, 
Enlist  myself  on  truth  and  duty's  side, 
And  play  my  portion  in  the  world  untried. 


-oc^tiXC*  yj^^>~ 


37 


WISDOM  IN  OLD  AGE. 

Although  full  fifty  years  have  flown 

Since  we  were  join'd  together : 
Though  num'rous  hopes  and  fears  we've  known, 

The  storms  of  every  weather ; 
Though  age  hath  brought  us  on  to  see 

Life's  cares  and  trials  here, 
It  shall  not  force  my  heart  from  thee, 

John  Eobinson,  my  dear. 

Though  torpid  age  doth  set  me  fast, 

My  love  can  never  chill, 
But  breathes,  as  in  the  changing  past. 

Resemblance  to  thy  will. 
0,  lastly,  Johnny,  may  we  lay 

Together  in  the  tomb, 
And  rise  upon  the  final  day 

To  live  in  endless  bloom. 


38 


THE  SLAVE. 

'TwAS  as  the  shades  of  evening  fell 
On  verdant  slope  and  mossy  dell, 
I  thought  I  heard  a  mournful  sound 
From  yonder  maple-tree  rebound  ; 
I  hurried  forth — to  my  dismay, 
A  hunted  negro  bleeding  lay  ! 

With  heat  oppress'd  and  mangled  frame, 
Upon  his  back  the  brand  of  shame 
He  wore  ;  the  hour  of  his  birth 
He  cursed,  and  fell  upon  the  earth. 
He  laid  him  down  to  weep  and  die. 
Far  from  the  bloodhound's  yelling  cry. 

I  tried  to  cheer,  but  all  in  vain ; 
Eack'd  with  the  tortures  of  his  pain, 
His  spirit  could  return  no  more. 
As  he  lay  weltering  in  his  gore, 
Yet  one  consoling  thought  had  he 
In  death — from  earthly  demons  free. 

Alas  !  I  hear  the  distant  bay 

Of  hunters  in  their  startled  lay; 

And  with  a  horrid  shout,  and  sound 

Of  blood,  they  eager  forward  bound ; 

The  dogs  his  lifeless  body  eat, 

Fight,  growl,  and  quarrel  o'er  their  treat. 


39 


CHRISTMAS. 


0  Guest  !  we  hail  thy  welcome  feet, 
And  exult  in  thy  looks  so  sweet ; 
Are  thankful  for  thy  joyous  face, 
And  triumph  in  thy  warm  embrace. 
We  know  that  thou  hast  come  to  cheer 
Us  in  the  winter  of  the  year ; 
Let  us  rejoice,  our  mountains  ring. 
Our  bells  proclaim  thy  welcoming. 

Though  days  are  short,  and  nights  are  long, 
They  can't  delay  our  humble  song. 
But  we  will  sing  a  song  as  gay 
As  in  the  merry  month  of  May. 
Let  all  be  peace  upon  the  earth; 
Let  the  valleys  ring  with  mirth ; 
"With  cheerful  hearts  may  all  agree, 
And  sing  a  touching  melody. 

Let  u  s,  like  brooks  from  leafy  dells. 
Pour  forth  unwearied  canticles ; 
0  let  us  magnify  and  spread 
The  blessings  that  adorn  thy  head  : 


40  CHEISTMAS. 

May  now  our  joyful  voices  blend, 
Like  incense  to  the  skies  ascend ; 
And  all,  in  one  harmonious  strain, 
Proclaim  the  glories  of  thy  reign. 

May  nightly  waits,  and  daily  bands, 
Receive  the  blessings  of  thy  hands; 
Bid  him  with  sorrow  in  his  soul 
To  drown  it  in  the  festive  bowl : 
So  pass  the  cup  in  social  mirth, 
And  pass  the  yule  log  on  the  hearth, — 
For  Christmas  reigns ;  let  every  voice 
Exclaim,  let  every  heart  rejoice  ! 


-I-XH 


41 


ANOTHER  ON   CHRISTMAS. 

Ye  sons  of  earth,  rejoice 

That  Christmas  comes  again ; 

0  laud  with  merry  voice 
The  glories  of  his  reign. 

Hark  !  the  angels  sing, 
In  hymns  of  festive  song, 

The  glories  of  their  king  ;^ 
0  hear  the  heavenly  throng. 

Te  minstrels  here  below, 
Attune  your  sacred  lyres. 

And  run  the  joyful  stanzas  through 
In  their  harmonious  fires. 

Ye  saints,  the  chorus  swell 
To  Bethlehem's  shining  Star; 

Join  the  celestial  peal, 

And  sound  His  praise  afar. 

Ye  worldly  hosts,  return 

To  grateful  duty  mild  ; 
0  bid  the  nations  learn 

When  Christ  was  but  a  child  I 


42 


ON  WALKING   BY  THE   EIVER   SLEA 
BEFORE   SUNRISE. 

'TwAS  at  the  early  dawn  of  day,  before  bright  Sol 

had  shed 
His  rays  across  the  heavenly  arch,  I  wander' d  by  thy 

bed. 

Few  sounds  disturb' d  my  musing,  for  all  around  was 

still. 
Save  the  rippling  of  the  waters  and  the  clicking  of 

the  mill. 

When  quaint  visions  hard  beset  me  of  the  bonny 

days  of  old — 
Visions  of  mysterious  doings,  by  the  roll  of  ages  told ; 

Visions  of  the  crowd  assembled,  where  that  grey  old 

ancient  spire 
Rears  its  head  unto  the  skies — visions  of  the  monk 

and  friar. 

As  I  pass'd  the  noble  relic  of  good  Alexander's  pride, 
Lo !  I  heard  the  sounds  of  horsemen   on  the  early 
breezes  ride ; 


ON  WALKING  BT  THE  KITEE  SLEA.  43 

Lo  !  I  saw  fierce  Cromwell's  legions  quickly  scale  the 

mighty  wall ; 
Too  I  saw  the  turrets  tremble,  and  the  noble  castle 

faU. 

I  beheld  the  lofty  watch-tow'r,  where  the  ivy  wove 

its  spray, 
Fall  beneath  the  sudden  fire,  through  the  mists  of 

morning  grey. 

I  beheld  the  martial  phalanx  rise  the  hill  in  warlike 

rows, 
"Where  the  gems  of  Flora  blossom,  where  the  blush- 

-ing  violet  grows. 

But  I  wander'd  on  till  Phoebus  rode  in  might  along 
the  sky. 

As  the  vapours  of  the  morning  quickly  from  his  pre- 
sence fly. 

'Now  the  time  was  fast  departing,  duty  bid  me  from 

it  flee  : 
'Tis  with  fond  delight  I  think  upon  my  ramble  by 

the  Slea. 


5)D>G^ 


44 


DAYBREAK. 

Lo !    sweet   silence   greets   the   morning,    hails  the 

opening  of  the  day, 
As  the  rising  king  of  glory  drives  the  early  dews 

away  ;— 

"WTien    the   reigning    orbs  of  midnight    quit    their 

thrones  of  lurid  glare. 
When  no  sounds  of  busy  populace  do  ride  along  the 

air ; — 

"When  the  iron  sons  of  labour  seek  their  life-accus- 
tom'd  toil, 

And  the  travellers  on  the  stage  of  life  begin  their 
daily  broil ; — 

In  the  grove  the  songsters  welcome,  with  their  notes 

of  festive  glee, 
Gladsome  blushing  of  the  morning,  in  sweet  tones  of 

melody. 

But  in  time  the  rays  of   Phoebus  in  their  majesty 

break  forth. 
As  the  eastern  portals  shed  their  rays  'of  brightness 

on  the  earth  ; 

"WTiile  the  clouds  of  smoky  vapour  from  the  scatter'd 

cots  arise, 
As  their  wreaths  of  sombre  blackness  quickly  vanish 

in  the  skies ; 


DAYBEEAK.  45 

As  the  softly  flowiug  waters   trickle   through   the 

peaceful  vale, 
Lo  !  I  hear  the  watchful  linnet  from  the  hawthorn 

tell  its  tale. 

True,  the    spirit  of  enchantment    weaves  a  charm 

around  the  hour, 
As  th'  illumined  flash  of  splendour  strikes  upon  the 

mossy  tower. 

As  the  goddess  of  the  morning   strews   across   the 

graceful  lawn 
Her  fairy  gems  of  sprightliness  to  hail   the   rising 

dawu, — 

Lo  !  swift  Time  moves  on  his  errand,  all  the  visions 

flee  away, 
And  the  world  awaketh  to  the  stern  realities  of  day. 


— ©g><^c 


46 


THE  GREETING  OF  THE  AUSTRALIANS  TO 
THE  PRIMROSE  OF  ENGLAND. 

0  "svAiT,  ye  dearest  little  ones,  in  time  ye  all  shall  see 
The  messenger  of  visions  from  j-our  home  beyond  the  sea ; 
Lest  yon  harm  its  tender  foliage,  oh,  treat  it  carefully. 

Eush  not,  ye  burly,  hardy  ones  ;  oh,  he  of  sober  cast, 
Lest  ye  destroy  its  loveliness,  its  comely  beauty  blast : 
Remember,  if  it  prospereth,  it  shall  for  ever  last. 

What  blissful  tidings  from  the  land  of  heaven  doth   she 

bring  ! 
What  pleasure  in  our  hearts,  as  we  gaze  upon  her,  spring! 
What  beamings  of  our  home  beloved  to  her  tender  branches 


^fe-^ 


clinsr ! 


o 


Remember,  'tis  the  selfsame  flower  your  noble  fathers  bore 
Upon  their  crimson  vests  to  kirk  in  merry  days  of  yore. 
Oh,  joyful  hail  its  presence  where  it  never  came  before. 

0  flower  of  our  fatherland,  in  England's  vale  serene, 
Where  flows  the  peaceful  streamlet,  upon  its  banks  are  seen 
Thee,  with  a  host  of  Flora's  gems  who  own  thee  blushing 
queen. 

Oft  have  I  in  the  spring  of  life,  with  playmates  blithe  and 

gay, 
As  to  the  summer  skies  arose  the  perfume  of  the  hay, 
Sought  thy  lone  sequester'd  nook,  and  borne  thee  safe  away. 


THE  GREETING  OF  THE  ATJSTEALtANS.  47 

Oh,  virgin  of  the  prairie,  may  Heaven  speed  thy  hloom ! 
Mayst  thou  smile  in  delight  for  endless  years  to  come. 
To  grace  our  children's  garlands,  and  cheer  their  desert 
home. 

<0  darling  of  simplicity,  0  beam  of  freedom's  ray, 

That  was  a  day  of  hallow'd  bliss,  a  ne'er  forgotten  day, 

When  England  to  the  distant  land  sent  thee  in  love  away. 

But  far  more  joyful  was  the  day,  as  from  the  courts  above, 
A  pilgrim  of  blest  innocence,  they  welcom'd  thee  in  love  : 
The  gem  of  Flora  in  the  west,  oh,  mayst  thou  ever  prove  ! 

Then,  when  the  present  race  recline  in  peace  within  the 

bower 
I  Of  death,  may  future  generations  name  thee  blest  of  flowers. 
And  praise  the  day  when  thou  arrivedst  from  this  fair  land 

of  ours. 

Note. — This  beautiful  little  flower,  so  common  in  the  fields 
and  lanes  in  Britain,  was  unknown  to  Australia  until  a  little  time 
since,  when  one  was  imported  from  England.  "  The  sensation 
it  produced  no  one  can  describe ;  thousands  of  people  welcomed 
It  on  shore,  and  the  day  of  its  presence  was  celebrated  with  the 
most  profound  deUght." — Illustrated  London  News. 


.»«@»> 


48 


ODE  TO   CONTENTMENT. 

0  PLACID  nymph,  of  wisdom's  dearest  wile, 

On  human  scenes  pray  cast  thy  sacred  smile ; 

Smile  on  the  monarch's  fate,  the  peasant's  lot, 

Bequeath  thy  blessings  to  the  throne  and  cot; 

Place  thy  bright  standard  in  the  human  breast, 

And  set  its  every  idle  thought  at  rest ; 

Show  man  that  rust,  and  stern  corruptions  spoil. 

Consume  th'  attainments  of  his  fruitless  toil ; 

The  empty  virtues  of  that  course  reveal, 

"Where  moths  destroy,  and  thieves  break  through  and 

steal. 
Teach  him  to  hoard  no  paltry  treasure  here, 
But  look  on  high,  and  frame  his  portion  there, 
Where  fortune's  blessing  never  never  dies, 
No  disappointment  lurks  within  the  prize  ; 
Where  envied  treasures  never  find  decay, 
No  sinful  thief  can  bear  the  gem  away. 
Tell  man  on  earth,  though  better  he  may  fare. 
Yet  in  the  grave  that  all  are  equal  there ; 
For  death  alike  his  ghastly  visit  pays. 
O'er  rich  and  poor  alike  his  sceptre  sways : 
The  sad,  the  thoughtful,  and  the  gay  and  blythc. 
All  disappear  before  his  powerful  scythe. 
May  thy  fair  influence  to  the  mind  be  given. 
To  live  below  in  glorious  hope  of  heaven. 


49 


^'OLD  AGE,  I  FEAR  THEE  NOT/ 

Old  age,  thou  canst  not  give  me  pain — 

Ye  silver  tresses  on  my  head, 
Ye  shall  not  force  me  to  complain, 

Because  my  youthful  days  are  fled. 
I  hope  to  live  in  cities  fair. 

Where  godlike  forms  for  ever  dwell ; 
No  feet  return  who  wander  there — 

Of  them  no  human  tongue  can  tell. 

My  life  was  like  the  summer  flower, 

Or  as  the  ripple  on  the  sea. 
Or  as  the  fragrance  of  the  bower, 

That  scents  the  air  delightfully. 
As  first  the  little  bud  appears. 

And  next  to  view  the  lovely  bloom. 
So  came  successively  the  years. 

And  drew  me  nearer  to  the  tomb. 

The  dream  is  o'er,  the  phantom  flies, 

Nought  can  arrest  i;he  fleeting  course 
Of  life,  who  in  its  nature  dies. 

And  breathes  contempt  on  human  force. 
But  still  fair  Hope,  on  wings  of  might. 

Conveys  me  to  those  courts  above. 
Where  angels  dwell  in  radiant  light. 

And  reign  in  everlasting  love. 


50 


THE  MORNING  STAR. 

{An  humhle  appendage  to  the  Poem  "  The  Evening  Star.") 

Oh,  beautiful  star,  as  the  watch  of  the  sky 

Thou  shinest  in  thy  fulness  of  glory  alone ; 
"Now  the  rest  of  the  orbs  from  the  firmament  fly, 
Whose  bright  rays  upon  us  celestial  shone. 
Beautiful  star  !  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 
Star  of  the  daybreak,  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 

Who  art  thou  ?  The  herald  of  holy  decree. 
The  promise  of  bliss  in  the  region  above  ; 
In  joy  we  behold  the  fair  presence  of  thee, 
Who  frameth  our  hopes  in  the  city  of  love. 
Beautiful  star !  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 
Star  of  bright  promise.  Oh,  beautiful  star  I 

As  Sol  from  the  clouds  of  the  east  doth  arise, 

Thou  beacon' st  the  course  of  his  aerial  way. 
Till  at  length  in  fiill  glory  he  lighteth  the  skies, 
And  briugeth  unto  us  the  blessings  of  day. 
Beautiful  star  !  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 
Star  of  the  sunrise.  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 

Beautiful  star  !  fair  vision  of  light ! 
Glories  divine  thy  circuit  attend. 
Thou  changest  the  gloom  and  the  darkness  of  night 
Into  day,  with  its  pleasures  that  never  shall  end. 
Beautiful  star  !  Oh,  beautiful  star  ! 
Star  of  the  morning.  Oh,  beautiful  star. 


61 


THE  HOME  OF  MY  FATHERS. 

Though  life's  many  changes  set  me  far  apart 

From  the  joys  of  my  childhood,  the  scenes  of  my 

youth, 
They  never  can  alter  the  love  of  my  heart, 
That  records  my  earliest  actions  in  truth. 
Though  tempests  of  this  world  continually  wage 
Their  volleys  of  strife  and  cause  me  to  regret, 
They  never  can  blot  from  kind  memory's  page  ; — 
Oh,  the  home  of  my  fathers  I  ne'er  can  forget ! 

Though  far  from  the  bounds  of  my  nation  I  roam. 
If  I  travel  the  kingdoms  far  over  the  sea. 
That  bright  shining  star  that  illumines  my  home 
Still  throws  the  fair  light  of  its  rays  over  me. 
0  lamp  of  the  universe !  bright  little  star ! 
The  roU  of  thy  glory  remains  yet  unfurl'd, 
The  sound  of  thy  coming  ariseth  afar, 
0  gem  of  my  fatherland  !  guide  of  the  world ! 

In  the  climes  of  the  north,  in  the  seas  of  the  west. 
In  the  tent  of  the  Arab,  where  freedom  gives  birth 
To  the  smile  of  content,  there  lieth  at  rest 
The  counsel  of  Britain,  the  pride  of  the  earth. 
To  me  she  is  dearest ;  who  think  well  may  roam. 
And  cross  the  broad  ocean  their  fortunes  to  get. 
But  in  her  is  my  temple  of  love  and  my  home. 
Oh,  the  land  of  my  fathers  I  never  will  quit ! 

E  2 


52 


THE   SOLDIER'S  DREAM. 

When  young  I  left  my  father's  cot, 
Bid  every  childish  scene  adieu, 
The  battle-field  my  chosen  lot, 
AVith  victory  and  fame  in  view. 
I  heeded  not  my  mother's  prayer, 
My  father's  wish  I  ask'd  no  more, 
But  banish' d  from  me  every  care. 
And  sought  the  fiery  cannons'  roar. 

But  when  the  battle's  rage  was  o'er, 

As  I  lay  on  the  dismal  plain, 

'Twas  then  I  thought  of  home  once  more — 

Those  happy  scenes  flew  back  again. 

I  dreamt  I  sat  beside  the  brook 

That  murmurs  through  my  father's  ground, 

Whilst  far  above  I  heard  the  rook, — 

Alas !  'twas  but  the  trumpet's  sound. 


i=>CB©— 


53 


OUR  NATIVE   ISLE. 

Deae  is  OTiY  Isle,  our  Native  Isle, 

Where  battled  tower  and  moated  gate 
Are  objects  onlj^  for  the  spoil 

Of  hoary  age  to  decorate. 
Oh !  we  may  gladly  all  rejoice, 

Who  dwell  on  Britain's  favour' d  ground, 
Where  freedom  bids  the  welcome  voice 

Of  peace  in  happiness  resound. 

No  haughty  mandate  fills  our  throne. 

Or  sways  the  sceptre  of  our  land ; 
But  love  and  liberty  alone 

On  every  side  go  hand  in  hand : 
May  Heaven  guide  our  gracious  Queen, 

And  teach  her  long  to  rule  aright ; 
0  may,  whilst  on  life's  chequered  scene. 

Her  people  serve  her  with  delight. 

Abroad  we  have  no  foes  to  fear  ; 

Though  despots  frown  we  heed  them  not, 
For  concord  reigns  triumphant  here, 

Alike  in  palace  and  in  cot. 
Enlivening  sound  of  magic  fire. 

How  sweet  to  hear  the  cheerful  strain 
That  issues  from  thy  golden  lyre, 

As  Orpheus  strikes  its  cords  again  ! 


54  O0E  NATIVE  ISLE. 

Delightful  land  !  0  happy  Isle  ! 

I  like  no  other  clime  as  thee ; 
Though  treasures  great  may  tempt  and  smile, 

Lost  is  their  every  charm  to  me. 
Home  of  my  Fathers !  nation  blest ! 

While  happy  generations  lie 
Beneath  thy  turf,  in  silent  rest, 

So  in  thee  may  I  live  and  die. 


55 


LINCOLN   CATHEDRAL. 

0  NOBLE  pile  !  of  sacred  age, 

By  chieftains  built,  who  stoutly  bore 
Their  spears  of  might  to  grace  the  page 

Of  patron  saint  in  days  of  yore. 
How  solemn  is  the  evening  breath 
That  echoes  through  thy  cells  of  death. 
Where  bygone  generations  lie 
In  hope  of  blest  eternity. 

As  to  the  sky  thy  lofty  spire 

Approach'd,  our  fathers  in  their  might 
Of  zeal,  re-echoed  through  thy  choir, 

The  sacred  glories  of  their  right. 

1  think  I  see  them  in  their  praise, 

As  through  the  arch  the  morning  rays 
Of  Phoebus  steal — them  lift  on  high 
Their  thanks  for  signal  victory. 

Though  Cromwell  tried  by  cannon's  might, 
With  troops  of  horsemen  clad  in  mail. 

To  lay  thee  powerless  on  thy  site. 
Or  cast  thee  helpless  in  the  vale  ; 

Though  far  around  thy  neighbours  fell ; 

Though  few  the  records  they  can  tell ; 

Yet,  as  a  pilgrim  of  the  sky. 

Thou  bear'st  pathetic  sanctity. 


56  LINCOLN  CATHEDEAL, 

1^0  more  the  horrid  martial  sound 

Doth  ride  upon  the  loathsome  air  ; 
No  more  the  watchman  in  his  round 

Repeats  the  word — Beware  !  Beware  I 
No  legions  stand  without  thy  wall ; 
No  rushing  troops  obey  the  call  — 
"  To  battle  come  !"     No  eye  discerns, 
No  voice  proclaims — "  The  city  burns." 

Be  not  my  humble  rhyme  misplaced, 

My  vision  cheated,  that  can  see 
The  shadow  of  thy  bygone  past 

In  man's  adoring  memory. 
Well  may  the  citizens  be  vain, 
Who  dwell  around  thy  hallow' d  fane, 
To  spread  below,  and  lift  on  high. 
The  tidings  of  thy  mystery. 

Thy  mighty  towers  have  lived  throughout 
The  strength  of  many  centuries'  storms ; 

The  fiery  ball,  the  battle  shout. 
With  dangers  in  beleaguer'd  form. 

0  mayst  thou  stand  while  service  pure 

In  earthly  choirs  shall  endure  ; 

0  mayst  thou  stand  while  thou  art  given 

To  be  the  favour'd  spot  of  Heaven. 


;-»G^ 


57 


HARVEST   HOME. 

I  LOVE  to  see  the  old  oak  bear 

The  litter  of  the  golden  sheaf; 
I  love  to  read  those  records  rare 

That  fill  the  page  of  Autumn's  leaf; 
I  love  to  see  a  cheerful  smile 

Alight  upon  the  peasant's  cheek, 
"Whose  thoughts  no  downcast  looks  beguile, 

AYhose  mighty  arm  is  seldom  weak. 

I  love  to  hear  the  mirthful  sound 

That  issues  from  the  humble  cot, 
"Where  hearts  in  happiness  rebound 

And  plenty  crowns  their  joyful  lot. 
Though  last,  but  surely  not  the  least, 

May  gracious  blessings  e'er  alight 
On  him  who  shares  his  fruitful  feast, 

And  spares  the  widow's  humble  mito. 

I  love  to  bear  the  early  lark. 

That  tuneful  minstrel  of  the  sky  ; 
The  bat  and  screeching  owl  at  dark, 

"W'ith  them  in  gladness  would  I  fly  : 
But  still  I  love,  yea  better  far 

Than  Livy's  festal  lay  of  Home, 
To  hear  those  sounds,  that  cleave  the  air, 

Of  joyful,  welcome  "harvest  home." 


58 


CHILDHOOD. 

0  THE  days  of  joy  and  gladness, 
When  my  heart  was  light  and  gay, 

When  the  thought  of  gloomy  sadness 
Brighter  pleasures  chased  away  ; 

1  can  ne'er  from  kind  reflection 
Blot  the  record  of  those  scenes. 

Memory  blest ;  for  its  protection. 
In  each  trial  intervenes. 

It  seems  to  me  but  yesterday. 

Or  rather  as  my  latest  dream, 
When  I  my  primer  hurl'd  away. 

And  cast  the  chicken  in  the  stream, 
Eode  on  papa's  faithful  hobby, 

As  the  hawthorn  blossom  white, 
Got  poor  little  "  Trick"  and  "  Bobby," 

First  to  play  and  then  to  fight. 

When  I  and  my  little  brothers 

Ean  each  other  round  the  room, 
AVhen  kind  mamma  invited  others, 

At  my  birthday  all  to  come ; 
How  sweet !  the  fiddler  of  the  town 

Swept  his  strings  with  magic  fire, 
How  gay  we  tripp'd  to  every  tune. 

Till  the  long  night  did  expire. 


CniLDHOOD.  59 

Alas !  those  scenes  are  gone  for  ever ; 

I  must  climb  the  hill  of  life, 
I  must  cross  the  flowing  river, 

As  the  current  rolls  in  strife. 
But  when  I've  traced  the  slippery  way 

Of  youth,  and  age's  course  began. 
May  I  exclaim,  "  0  blessed  day  ! 

When  I  became  a  thoughtful  man." 


4<s4^l4&r"&^'5~^ 


60 


THE   UNCERTAINTY   OF   LIFE. 

I  SAW  upon  a  sunny  site 

A  graceful  floweret  bloom, 
But  cruel  frost  at  coming  night 

Convey' d  it  to  the  tomb. 

I  saw  upon  this  busy  stage 

Delighted  children  play, 
But  death,  unmindful  of  their  age, 

Hath  swept  them  all  away. 

I  saw  the  ruddy  cheek  at  noon, 

With  hue  of  blushing  red. 
And  sparkling  eye,  by  evening  borne 

To  slumber  with  the  dead. 

But  yesternight  a  monarch  held 

On  earth  imperious  sway  ; 
Lo,  better  fate  his  might  dispell' d 

Before  the  dawn  of  day. 

Then,  what  is  life  ? — a  mingled  scene 

Of  joy,  and  hope,  and  fear, 
Though  fortune  kind  may  intervene, 

How  short  it  lingers  here  ! 

Time,  as  a  constant  rolling  stream, 

Through  ages  floweth  on. 
To  cast  and  close  the  human  dream 

In  vast  oblivion. 


61 


THE  NEW  YEAR. 

Written  for,  and  inserted  in  tlie  Lincolnshire  Herald,  January 
1859,  on  the  occasion  of  its  being  reduced  in  price. 

Part  I. 

Farewell  to  thee,  0  sinking  year ! 

To  every  member  of  thy  ti'ain 
I  say  farewell.     What  hast  thou  there  ? 

If  'tis  the  record  of  thy  reign, 
0  let  me  scan  its  wondrous  page  ! 

0  let  me  run  its  glories  o'er, 
Before  thou  quit  the  chequered  age 

Of  human  life,  for  evermore. 

Alas  'tis  dark,  the  glories  few  ! 

"WTien  I  perceive  the  sinful  band, 
The  guilty  tribe,  the  murd'rous  crew, 

Are  rife  and  ready  through  the  land, 
Alas  !  few  joys  burst  on  the  sight 

From  martial  fame  the  scene  to  cheer ; 
But  0  may  knowledge  gather  light. 

Her  "  Herald  "  bless  the  rising  year. 

Lo  !  she  bids  the  world's  vast  record 

Enter  at  the  cottage  door  ; 
Plutus  hath  no  ruling  sword 

To  keep  its  presence  from  the  poor. 


62  THE  NETV  XEAB. 

Lo  !  the  "  Herald  "  of  our  province 
Hears  the  outcry  of  the  age  ; 

May  wisdom  and  the  pen  of  science 
Be  the  authors  of  her  page. 

May  it  to  our  ancient  Borough 

Prove  the  monitor  of  truth ; 
I^ot  a  record  of  to-morrow, 

Not  a  slander  sheet,  forsooth  ! 
"While  the  guardians  of  its  pages 

Wish  to  its  worthy  readers  here. 
The  next,  the  turning  leaf  of  ages. 

May  prove  to  all  a  blissful  year. 

Pakt  II. 

Swift  the  tide  of  time  is  rolling, 

Tears  are  bounding  out  of  sight, 
Loud  the  storms  of  age  are  boiling. 

Centuries  waging  puny  might. 
What  is  man  ?  a  fading  flower, 

Bloometh  only  for  a  day  ; 
As  the  foliage  of  the  bower, 

Lo  !  unseen,  he  falls  away. 

But  the  tribute  of  his  glory 

Is  not  lost ;  the  roll  of  fame 
In  our  "  Herald"  tells  the  story, 

Wrests  from  grasping  age  his  name. 
May  it  be  the  burghers  ever 

Of  our  fenny  city  prove 
Truthful  record  of  the  river 

Where  the  stately  barges  move. 


THE  NEW  YEAE.  63 

When  the  foreign  barks  arrive, 

Laden  from  the  Swedish  coast, 
"When  the  thrifty  Dutchmen  strive 

To  urn  their  Cuba  in  the  post. 
As  our  fellow- townsmen  rise, 

May  it  tell  with  true  delight ;      «- 
When  a  comet  marks  the  skies, 

Fair  mistress  of  the  sable  night. 

May  it  e'er  uphold  the  honour 

Of  Saint  Botolph  on  the  plain, 
As  the  millions  look  upon  her, 

Lo  !  they  wonder,  look  again. 
Queen  of  churches  !  as  thy  steeple 

Rises  in  majestic  might, 
Proud  of  thee  well  may  the  people 

Be  who  dwell  around  thy  site. 

Paet  III. 

Great,  0  noble  institution. 

Ever  by  thee  wisely  led. 
May  the  English  constitution, 

Own  thee  as  its  fountain-head. 
Kings  may  fear,  and  nations  tremble. 

Senates  too  bemoan  their  fate 
As  they  view  their  might  dissemble 

Who  disown  thee,  first  estate. 

Yea,  their  law  is  but  deception. 

And  its  greatest  wisdom  base  ; 
Only  truth  shall  find  reception — 

Prosper  in  the  human  race ; 


64  THE  NEW  TEAK. 

Lo  !  the  workman  guides  the  nation, 
Learns  the  history  of  his  state  ; 

Peasants,  blest  with  inspiration, 
Argue  fiercely  in  debate. 

May  the  press  of  Britain  ever 

Plead  the  cause  of  virtue's  might; 
0  may  no  infringement  sever] 

Justice  from  her  pages  right. 
As  from  modern  Thebes  their  voices 

Daily  tell  our  favour' d  land 
Latest  news,  the  state  rejoices — 

Plying  swift  across  the  strand. 

May  the  "  Herald"  from  the  city 

Of  our  fenny  country  tell 
Cheerful  minds  a  pleasing  ditty, 

Sons  of  toil  a  magic  spell ; 
May  it  be  the  politician. 

Prove  a  guide  to  duty  here, 
"While  it  seeks  a  high  position, 

Bounding  o'er  the  rolling  year. 


65 


ON  THE  PAST  YEAR. 

Lo  !  on  the  rapid  wings  of  Time, 
Another  changing  year  has  flowm, 
While  nature  in  her  work  sublime, 
Receives  it  as  her  lawful  own  : 
0  fleeting  scene  !  0  empty  dream  ! 
How  quick  thy  shadows  disappear, 
While  further  sink  beneath  the  stream 
The  records  of  the  dying  year. 

While  thousands  here  have  ceased  to  play 
Their  part  upon  life's  bustling  stage, 
Are  in  the  current  swept  away, 
Of  swift  and  quick  departing  age ; 
We  rise  to  play  their  acts  again, — 
Upon  their  faded  scenes  appear, 
And  little  think  oiu'  worldly  reign 
May  end  before  another  year. 

May  peace  her  blessings  throw  around. 
As  we  succeeding  pages  turn 
Of  life.     0  may  her  voice  resound, 
May  Freedom's  lamp  for  ever  bnrn  ; 
0  may  the  child  of  love  below, 
With  his  delighted  smile  appear. 
Dismiss  life's  ripples  as  they  flow 
In  joy,  and  hail  each  coming  year. 


66  ON  THE  PAST  YEAK. 

How  rapid  !  Time  is  on  the  wing, 
How  quick  the  various  seasons  fly ! 
May  kind  experience  ever  bring, 
Her  gracious  aid  to  you  and  I ; 
Then,  when  our  prime  of  life  is  past, 
And  grey  with  age  our  heads  appear. 
May  brighter  pleasures  come  at  last, 
A  glorious  never-ending  year. 


^Di<3^ 


67 


PEACE. 

How  blest !  how  delightful  the  voice 

Of  Peace,  her  fair  presence  how  dear, 
She  bids  the  earth's  people  rejoice, 

And  stayeth  the  dull  sound  of  fear ; 
The  land  of  the  rose  and  the  vine, 

Are  thankful,  at  rest ;  their  cares  sleep, 
They  forget  the  ill  cares  of  the  mind, 
No  more  do  they  murmur  or  weep. 
The  nymph  of  contentment,  the  spirit  of  love. 
Pours  on  them  her  blessings  from  heaven  above. 

As  by  the  fond  smile  of  delight. 

The  cheek  both  of  peasant  and  king 
Are  lit  by  its  beams  gay  and  bright, 

While  cheerful  her  virtues  they  sing  ; 
For  joy  is  the  chime  of  creation, 

The  voices  of  pleasure  and  mirth, 
Eesound  to  the  end  of  the  nation, 

To  welcome  her  presence  on  earth. 
The  sound  of  the  bugle  is  silent,  at  ease 
The  warrior  rests  on  the  triumph  of  peace. 

Oh,  long  on  the  plains  of  our  island  ! 

May  the  flower  of  liberty  bloom ; 
Oh  may  no  ill  fate  with  her  harsh  wand 

Consign  that  fair  gem  to  the  tomb. 

f2 


68  PEACE. 

May  Britain  look  forth  to  the  morning, 

"When  virtue  shall  dwell  on  the  earth, 
"When  the  nations  shall  cast  off  their  mourning, 
And  hail  in  delight  the  fair  birth 
Of  Peace ;  -when  no  echo  resounds  in  the  grove, 
But  the  falling  of  waters,  the  voice  of  the  dove. 


-oo'axs^o.^ 


69 


WAR. 

How  horrid  !  how  cruel  the  sound 

Of  war,  which  assaileth  the  ear  ; 
How  swift  doth  the  message  rebound 

To  clothe  the  vast  nations  with  fear. 
The  land  of  honey  and  wine, 

Where  peaceful  the  currents  are  flowing ; 
The  land  of  the  myrtle  and  vine, 

Alas  !  their  ill  fortunes  are  knowing. 
Dark  is  their  prospect  to  mount  the  fierce  car, 
And  plunge  in  the  evils  and  horrors  of  war. 

The  peasant  must  quit  his  fond  home, 

The  scenes  of  his  childhood  and  mirth. 
In  death's  chequered  valley  to  roam, 

And  fight  for  the  land  of  his  birth. 
Instead  of  the  sound  in  the  morn. 

Of  the  stream,  or  the  chanticleer  crowing ; 
In  the  land  of  the  melon  and  com 

The  bugles  of  armies  are  blowing. 
The  clash  of  the  phalanx  resoundeth  afar, 
As  they  rush  to  the  din  and  confusion  of  war. 

But,  oh,  may  Britannia  rejoice, 

And  tell  in  a  song  of  delight 
The  nations  that  love  is  her  voice  ; 

That  peace  is  her  lot  thi'ough  the  fight. 


70  WAE. 

Oh,  may  no  ill  fortune  assail  her  ; 

May  truth  be  the  strength  of  her  plea ; 
The  land  of  the  oak  and  sailor, 
The  land  of  the  joyous  and  free. 
Then  Mars  may  incite,  and  his  tempest  may  form 
In  dark  clouds  of  vengeance — she  conquers  the  stonm. 


=*c^ 


^s 


71 


ON  THE  MEMORIAL  WINDOW 

Lately  erected  in  Boston  Chnrch,  by  the  Freemen,  to  John 
Laughton,  as  a  tribute  of  their  esteem — he  being  the 
founder  of  the  National  Schools. 

0  Feeemex,  in  our  hallow'd  pile 

Ye've  wrought  a  noble  deed, 
Where  I  perceive  the  living  smile 
Of  gratitude,  the  dearest  wile 

Of  her  devoted  creed. 

Blest  be  your  work,  for  ever  bless'd, 

The  tribute  of  your  love, 
To  him  who  lies  in  silent  rest, 
Beneath  the  stone  in  acts  confess'd, 

Prepared  to  live  above. 

Who  in  your  antique  borough  shared 

Its  merriment  and  strife ; 
Who  for  your  children's  good  declared 
His  wish  ;  for  them  a  course  prepared, 

To  win  the  race  of  life. 

0  mark  the  sound  of  Laughton' s  name 

Whose  virtues  never  died, 
But  live  to  tell  his  honour' d  fame 
In  future  years  to  bear  his  claim, 

So  purely  justified. 


ON  A  ITEMOEIAL  WINDOW. 

0  !  may  the  memories  of  our  dead 

Eemind  us  of  the  time, 
Few  are  the  rays  the  sun  has  shed 
Upon  his  tomb  :  a  century's  fled 

In  Age's  solemn  chime. 

0  may  that  sacred  building  tell, 

0  may  its  relics  ever  bear. 
Truthful  records  from  the  cell 
Of  death,  where  generations  fell, 
And  sleep  their  last  sleep  there. 


73 


THE  TWA  BRIGS  OF  BOSTON. 

'Twas  night,  few  sounds  disturb' d  tlie  burghers'  rest, 

When  noisy  crews  in  hxbouring  found  a  zest 

For  sleep,  and  silent  was  the  sailor's  song; 

In  mighty  force  the  Witham  roU'd  along. 

As  o'er  its  flood  an  ancient  brig  uprear'd 

Its  huge  rude  form,  whose  safety  long  was  fear'd, 

"When  by  the  fates,  for  fear  of  limb  or  jig. 

The  borough  folks  had  built  another  brig  : 

'Twas  late,  when  passing  o'er  its  modern  form, 

Methought  I  heard  the  brewing  of  a  storm  ; 

I  stay'd  awhile,  when  lo  !  beneath  my  frame, 

I  heard  the  new  brig  to  the  auld  proclaim : 

THE  NEW  BRIG. 

"  Begone,  auld  tottering  neighbour,  from  my  sight. 
Thou  art  not  fit  by  day,  much  less  by  night. 
To  bear  the  anxious  pilgrim  on  his  way, 
Sometime  thou' It  fa'  and  hurl  him  in  the  spray ; 
Thy  'cute  auld  piers,  the  narrow  compass'  span. 
Looks  but  a  beaver's  arch — '  no  work  of  man.'  " 

THE  AULD  BRIG. 

"  Alas  !  I  ken,  young  chiel,  my  days  are  short. 
And  too  I  ken  thou  art  but  badly  taught ; 
When  thou  hast  liv'd  to  hear  old  Botolph's  chime 
As  long  as  I,  methinks  thy  dwindled  time 


74  THE  TWA  BEIGS  OF  BOSTON. 

"Will  fain  be  here ;  thou'lt  raise  no  lofty  head, 

But  then  vreel  trow  thy  auld  companion  dead. 

Across  the  flood  I  carried  every  day, 

Through  every  season,  yet  so  lean  my  pay, 

That  if  my  limbs  ago  had  been  repaired, 

For  coming  ages  yet  I  should  be  spared. 

So  now,  young  brig,  though  you  in  bairn  time  smile, 

Auld  age  will  come  whom  '  thou  dost  now  revile.'  " 

THE  NEW  BRIG. 

"  Thou'rt  sure  to  have  some  self-conceited  song, 
Auld  jade  !  for  thou  hast  liv'd  a  year  o'erlong, 
Thy  wailie  acts  in  truth  deserve  no  swaggie, 
Methinks  they're  nought,  thysel'  a  squattling  braggie, 
Say  not  thy  frame  for  ages  would  be  spared, 
If  thy  auld  spauls  afore  had  been  repaired  ; 
They  were  not  worth  it,  for  thy  hideous  creak, 
'Twas  not  of  warls,  but  like  old  Hornie's  squeak. 
Talk  not  to  me  about  my  lofty  head. 
Or  think  that  I  shall  grieve  o'er  thee  when  dead ; 
Soon  will  thy  quaintly  presence  be  forgot. 
Though  rolling  centuries  shall  not  stir  a  jot 
My  own  keystane,  when  Botolph's  site  is  bare, 
"When  chattering  daws  have  lost  their  covert  there  ; 
In  pride  I'll  stand,  when  trees  upon  that  plain 
Before  me  shake  'mid  stacks  of  brie  and  stane." 

THE  AtTLD  BEIG. 

"  Young  friend,  we  ken  thou'rt  but  a  puny  form 
Just  raised,  thou'st  seen  no  rugged  wintry  storm, 
No  blustering  tempest  hast  thou  yet  defied, 
Or  felt  a  quiver  from  the  fearfu'  tide. 


THE  TWA  BBIGS  OF  BOSTON.  75 

Why  call  me  braggie  ?     Of  the  acts  I've  wrought 
I  gently  tell  thee,  by  long  ages  taught : 
I've  known  the  knight  upon  his  noble  horse, 
And  buxom  damsel,  on  my  keystane  cross; 
I've  heard  the  tolling  of  the  convent  bell, 
And  ken  the  spot  where  Father  Jerome  fell. 
So  learn  the  relics  of  experienced  age. 
Thou'rt  but  a  bairn,  think  not  thyself  a  sage, 
Say  not  thou'lt  live  when  Botolph's  site  is  bare, 
I'll  spae  in  truth  thou  ne'er  wilt  have  sic  fare." 

THE  IfEW  BRIG. 

"  Well  row,  old  friend,  I  ken  thy  words  are  true, 

That  rolling  age  will  have  its  loyal  due ; 

But  shall  I,  wrought  with  iron's  stoutest  might. 

As  soon  as  thee  look  but  a  trembling  sprite  ? 

Shall  this  frail  creeping  tide  o'erwhelm  my  form, 

Or  shall  I  fa'  beneath  a  puny  storm  ? 

But  as  our  time  in  snarling' s  badly  spent, 

I  will  award  to  thee  our  argument. 

I  do  not  think  myself  a  learned  sage. 

Who  knoweth  wonders  taught  by  primsie  age ; 

I  only  thought  thou'd  better  lig  thy  head 

In  peace  than  thraw  thy  timmers  in  the  bed. 

To  stop  the  current,  and  to  form  the  clang 

Of  simple  tattlers  and  the  haivering  thrang, 

So  when  thou  dies  mayst  thou  find  welcome  rest, 

For  ever  honour'd  and  for  ever  blest." 

THE  ATJLD  BKIG. 

"  Leezeme!  young  bairn,  for  wehavemadethie'sweel, 
I  own  thy  gude  sense,  and  delighted  feel. 


76  THE  TWA  BEIGS  OF  BOSTON. 

Afore  we  part  let  me  a  lesson  give — 

A  word  of  counsel  how  thou  here  must  live, 

Though  I  weel  ken  advice,  like  ill-got  seed, 

On  barren  ground  is  often  lost  indeed; 

For  tittering  taupies  keep  their  ears  aloof 

From  wholesome  caution  and  from  wise  reproof ; 

But  mayst  thou  be  an  outlaw  to  the  rule, 

jVor  deem  thy  teacher  but  a  chattering  fool : 

Serve  well  the  borough,  and  when  thou'st  grown  auld 

Thy  goodly  acts,  as  mine,  will  then  be  told ; 

While  thrifty  burghers  oft  thy  keystane  cross. 

Grow  grey  as  it,  and  like  it  gather  moss, 

Mayst  thou  remind  them  as  the  winter's  blast, 

So  fierce  and  keen. 
Is  to  the  year,  so  auld  age  comes  at  last, 

And  shuts  the  scene  !" 


sDiCe 


77 


SPRING. 

Lo,  ghastly  Winter  quits  the  scene  ! 

His  rigid  rule  is  past ; 
Triumphant  Spring  surmounts  the  throne, 

And  calms  the  chilly  blast. 

Again  delighted  Nature  sees 

Her  jewels  leave  the  tomb  : 
Behold,  array'd  in  graceful  hues, 

Her  sprightly  beauties  bloom. 

While  at  the  early  dawn  of  day 

The  cuckoo  charms  the  ear, 
With  merry  voice  proclaims  her  reign — 

0  welcome  messenger  I 


■'o'- 


Eesplendent  in  the  glorious  sky, 
Bright  Phoebus  gilds  the  dawn, 

He  paints  the  chambers  of  the  east, 
And  hails  the  blushing  morn. 


■"■o 


With  gladsome  rush  the  little  stream, 

No  more  by  fetters  bound. 
Through  flowciy  mead  pursues  its  course 

Through  vale  and  hallow'd  ground. 

0  may  we  ever  here  below 

Her  lovely  graces  sing, 
Eejoice  that  blustering  Winter's  o'er, 

And  greet  the  birth  of  Spring. 


78 


KEMEMBEU  DEATH. 

Ye  striplings  on  the  busy  stage 
Of  life,  unknown  to  cares  of  age, 
Ye  early  wanderers  on  the  plain, 
Both  in  the  sunshine  and  the  rain, 
llemember  death  ! 

In  every  dear  and  transient  scene 
Eemember  he  may  intervene, 
And  blast  thy  hopes,  however  clear, 
And  sorrows  mingle  with  thy  fear  : 
Remember  death ! 

Ye  who  find  your  fate  on  earth 
Mingled  with  delight  and  mirth. 
Ye  who  find  your  mortal  way 
Thickly  strew'd  with  flowerets  gay, 
Remember  death ! 

Though  you  find  the  journey  here 
Peaceful,  and  your  voyage  clear. 
Think  not  silence  rules  the  sky. 
Or  the  waves  in  slumber  lie, — 

Remember  death  ! 

Bear  in  mind  the  vale  of  life 
Is  but  a  pilgrimage  of  strife  : 
Man's  importance  only  pleadeth 
For  the  grave.     His  actions  leadeth 
Unto  death ! 


79 


THE  TYRANT  PIKE. 

A  FABLE. 

There  lived  a  pike  of  mickle  might, 

The  terror  of  the  lake, 
The  little  fishes  heard  with  fright 

The  noise  he  used  to  make. 

For  fifty  years  his  cruel  reign 

The  laAV  of  fate  decreed  ; 
For  fifty  years  with  troubled  pain 

They  saw  the  monster  feed. 

A  hundred  fish  he  every  day 

With  greedy  appetite 
Consumed,  while  myriads  fled  away 

At  his  beleaguered  sight. 

At  last  the  fishes  of  the  lake 

Resolved  upon  a  day 
Friends  with  the  monster  fierce  to  make, 

And  take  his  life  away. 

He  spum'd  the  angler's  tempting  bait, 

His  line  he  heeded  not, 
"Which  other  poor  lost  fishes  ate, 

And  learnt  their  awful  lot. 


80  THE  TTEANT  PIKE. 

'Twas  on  a  grey,  dull  afternoon, 

Beneath  the  waters  lay 
A  luscious  treat ;  their  ruler  soon 

They  fetch' d  to  eat  the  prey. 

Unmerciful,  without  a  cau^e, 
He  sprung,  but,  lo  !  the  last, 

For  deep  within  his  fleshy  jaws 
The  fatal  hook  stuck  fast. 

When  to  the  watery  nation's  bound 

The  joyful  tidings  fled, 
The  small  and  great  re-echoed  round 

"  Eejoice,  the  monster's  dead." 

MOEAL. 

The  moral  of  my  fable  I 
Need  scarcely  add,  for  all 

Look  for  the  time,  and  joyfully 
Proclaim  a  tyrant's  fall. 


— ©Di<3©- 


81 


ESSAYS. 


HAPPINESS. 

The  chief  desire  of  man  is  to  live  in  happiness 
below,  and  to  enjoy  its  unrivalled  merits  hereafter. 
But,  alas  !  how  different  the  devices  for  its  attain- 
ment. I  will  divide  the  seekers  of  happiness  into 
three  classes.  First,  They  who  believe  it  to  exist 
in  the  light  and  empty  occupations  which  are  too 
often  termed  the  "joys  of  life."  Secondly,  They 
who  cast  aAvay  the  air  of  mirth,  and  the  smile  of 
joy,  for  the  solitude  of  a  mysterious  imagination, 
regarding  the  business  of  life  an  empty  employment, 
its  trials  and  cares  totally  vacant  of  any  design  of 
our  Creator.  Thirdly,  They  who  pay  due  observ- 
ance to  the  laws  of  God  and  man,  who  make  the 
path  of  life  as  smooth  as  their  fallen  state  will  allow, 
enjoy  themselves  whilst  on  earth,  and  when  their 
appointed  hour  of  death  arrives  are  ready  to  comply 
with  his  stern  request,  with  a  smile  upon  their  lips, 
and  a  conscious  indicator  within  of  their  just  actions 
below,  preparing  them  for  bliss  in  the  world  to  come. 
Eeturning  to  the  first  class  I  have  mentioned,  they 


82  ESSAYS. 

"who  witli  iinremittiDg  ardour  persist  in  that  vain 
pursuit,  thinking  happiness  and  pleasure  of  what- 
ever kind  go  hand  in  hand,  forget  that  the  novelty  of 
worldly  enjoyments  decays,  till  at  last  when  the  scene 
of  want  is  before  their  eyes,  they  perceive  to  their  dis- 
may it  was  but  the  shadow  of  happiness  presented  it- 
self to  their  view.  Poor  deluded  creatures !  led  by  their 
simple  minds  to  fancy  that  wealth,  fashion,  gaiety, 
and  happiness  are  inseparable,  what  unbounded  at- 
tempts at  the  expense  of  modesty  and  propriety  they 
with  thousands,  seek  for  happiness,  with  light  belief 
of  sorrow,  though  inward  grief  reminds  them  of 
their  miserable  career  ;  others  believe  if  they  obtain 
wealth,  they  as  a  natural  consequence  must  increase 
their  worldly  enjoyments.  Xow,  in  a  degree  they 
are  right  in  this  instance  if  they  go  no  farther,  but 
how  few  stop  here  :  but  as  their  wealth  increases, 
so  does  their  love  of  money  and  worldly  allurements, 
till  lastly,  gold  becomes  the  idol  of  their  hearts,  and 
their  ideas  of  religion  become  shallow  and  vague. 
The  ambitious  and  proud  think  dignity  of  appear- 
ance, high  descent,  and  noble  birth,  are  indispensable 
to  happiness.  How  plainly  they  are  in  the  wrong. 
For  in  vain  they  seek  in  the  scenes  of  their  luxurious 
actions  for  that  placid  nymph  Contentment,  who 
dwells  and  cheers  the  lot  of  the  humblest  peasant. 
Unenviable  beings  ;  to  cast  away  the  bright  facilities 
of  happiness,  to  wear  the  robe  of  empty  pride  which 
at  last,  like  their  frail  bodies,  becomes  the  prey  of 
the  moth,  and  the  worm  of  corruption.  In  the  second 
place,  they  who  assume  the  garb  of  solitary  delight, 
take  unto  themselves  mysterious  ideas,  both  of  their 


I 


HAPPINESS.  83 

Maker's  design  and  their  own  existence.     They  think 
the  treasures  of  the  world  not  worth  having,  its  tran- 
sient sweets  not  worth  enjoying.     They  behold  the 
man  of  business,  even  if  he  be  a  pious  individual,  but 
a  deceiver  who  wears  a  cloak  of  religion  for  the  bet- 
ter insurance  of  wealth.     They  regard  the  cares  and 
trials  of  life  as  current  events  passing  before  the  eyes 
of  all,  leaving  no  impression  either  of  gladness  or 
dismay  on  their  minds.     Deaf  to  the  entreaties  of 
conscience,  they  heed  not  its  rebuke.     What  a  pic- 
ture of  human  frailty,  drawn  by  sorrow,  coloured  by 
deception.     They  have  no  proper  design  of  future 
happiness,  no  source  of  pleasure  that  leadeth  iu  sight 
of  a  blissful  state  hereafter,  whatever  is  their  aim 
or  desire,  but  being  weak  and  dark- minded  they  pass 
through  the  world  in  a  state  of    crafty  solemnity; 
lastly,  as  the  bubbles  of  the  stream  they  disappear  and 
are  seen  no  more.     Now,  arriving  at  the  third  class  of 
persons  I  have  mentioned  here,  what  a  desirable  situ- 
ation is  theirs  who  pay  strict  observance  to  the  admi- 
rable laws  of  nature,  as  heaven  itself  designs  and 
sanctions,  who  for  their  position  in  life  are  thankful, 
whatever  it  may  be.     Contentment  is  the  ruler  of 
their  actions  and  the  disposer  of  their  ways ;  though 
scenes  of  trial  and  distress  disturb  their  actions,  they 
heed  thera  not;  but  as  the  little  craft  rides  safely 
through  the  deep  waters,  so  they  with  the  guide  of 
faith  surmount  the  stern  difficulties  of  life,  and  by 
patience  break  through  the  briars  and  thorns  which 
obstruct  this  mortal  path,  and  at  last  are  welcomed 
to  that   celestial   kingdom  to  wear  a  never-fading 
crown  of  glory,  and  to  abide  in  happiness  evtrlasting 

g2 


84 


MONEY. 

Wheit  man  first  appears  upon  the  stage  of  life  few 
of  his  bodily  powers  are  assumed — no  mental  power 
is  apparently  developed  :  consequently,  as  the  fruit 
is  owing  to  the  management' of  the  tree,  so  are  his 
prospects  of  life  depending  upon  that  tuition  and 
attention  he  receiveth  in  the  days  of  his  childhood 
and  youth  ;  for  as  the  little  tree,  which  is  neither 
watered  nor  sheltered  from  the  scorching  sun,  soon 
dieth  away,  so  it  is  with  man.  If  he  lacketh  proper 
attention  in  his  early  life,  he  is  so  injured  by  the 
ruling  power  of  his  passion,  which,  being  corrupt, 
destroyeth  his  every  energy  for  good,  and  finally  his 
hopes  of  happiness  and  comfort  are  blasted  for  ever. 
He  beareth  no  fruit,  but  lieth  ready  for  the  spade  of 
the  vile  husbandmen  to  dig  him  from  the  earth  and 
cast  him  in  the  consuming  flame.  Another  great 
portion  of  man's  being,  urging  upon  the  nature  of  his 
existence,  is  the  sphere  of  life  in  which  he  appears  at 
the  time  of  his  birth  If  he  is  born  rich,  and  has  a 
discontented  mind,  he  is  for  ever  pitiable  and  poor ; 
born  poor,  and  in  more  unfavourable  circumstances, 
if  through  the  merits  of  a  brighter  reason  he  is  con- 
tented with  his  lot,  that  is  the  man  I  envy  :  he  is 
rich  in  the  beauties  of  a  noble  mind,  he  looketh  upon 
money  as  a  blessing  in  life  pertaining  to  worldly 


MOJSET.  85 

affairs,  but  in  nowise  requisite  for  the  attainment  of 
liap2:)iness  hereafter.      Some  people  think  happiness 
is   seated  in   wealth,  are  continually  observing  the 
success  of  other  persons'  undertakings,    neglecting 
their  own,  and  think  the  world  was  made  for  them 
alone,  and  they  have  the  greatest  right  to  possess  it ; 
in  fact,  their  hearts  are  corrupted  and  led  astray  by 
evil  and  vain  desires,  not  intentionally  wicked.    No, 
no,  though  instead  of  annihilating,  they  become  the 
slaves  of  their  passions,  and  finallj^,  Avhen   poverty 
overtakes  them,  they  reflect  with  astonishment  on 
their  past  career,  and  view  with  horror  their  present 
condition.     But  why  should  they  ?  for  if  they  esti- 
mate the  valuable  time  they  have  lost  in  pondering 
over  other  people's  affairs,  they  will  see  they  have 
wasted   the    strength    of  their   mental   and   bodily 
acquirements  beneath  the  shackles  of  their  envious 
dispositions  :  it  being  now  too  late  for  any  amendment 
in  their  career,  they  are  as  people  armed  to  relieve 
another's  castle  at  the  same  time  their  own  is  falling 
beneath   the   fire   of    their   carnal   enemies;    lastly 
quitting  the  stage  of  life  as  neither  observers  of  the 
works  of  the  Almighty  nor  justifiers  of  the  admirable 
system  of  mankind.     The  next  class  of  persons  I  beg 
to  treat  of,  is  the  half-starved,  dirty-looking  being 
known  by  the  name  of  a  miser.     No  matter  w^hat 
sphere  of  life  he  appears  in,  if  he  is  born  with  that 
craving    disposition.     Though   rich,    he   will   grow 
richer;  if  poor,  by  some  means,  not  always  discreet 
or   honourable,    he    intends   to    accumulate   earthly 
wealth  through  the  curious  contrivances  of  his  nig- 
gardly   disposition.      Behold   his   dwelling  half  in 


8  6  ESSAYS. 

pieces,  his  ground  uncultivated  and  desolate ;  but 
still  further  view  the  interior  of  his  abode  :  there  he 
sits  by  himself,  not  even  a  cat  to  accompany  him  in 
his  solitude ;  even  a  mouse  dare  not  encroach  upon, 
his  dominions;  there  is  no  crumb,  so  much  less  cheese, 
for  him  ;  an  old  jug  minus  a  spout,  a  kettle  minus 
a  lid,  a  few  ill- contrived  boards  to  supply  the  office 
of  a   table,    with    sundry  little  worthless   utensils, 
comprise  his  household  stock;  his  bed  is  straw;  his 
chief  and  only  cheerful  desire  of  pleasure  resting  in 
the  occupation  of  estimating  the  value  of  his  bags ; 
his  greatest  delight  is  praying  to  his  golden  god  ! 
What  a  picture  of  human  depravity,  of  earthly  sin- 
fulness.    And  the  end  of  this  dark-minded  being — 
starved  to   death  :  his  money,  the  result  of  half  a 
century's  hoarding,  left  at  the  mercy,  and  too  oft  the 
discretion  of  that  person  forming  the  next  class  I 
intend   to   notice — the    spendthrift.     Whatever  his 
position  on  the  stage  of  life  may  be,  what  a  deplora- 
ble faculty  he  possesses  to   expend  his  fortune  in 
luxuriant  pleasures  common  to  the  evil  desires  of  a 
free  but  uncareful  mind,  which  lessen  his  means,  eat 
up  his  ideas  of  morality,  and  lastly,  his  constitution 
yields   to  the  effect  of  the  fatal  poison.     Unhappy 
being,  whose  only  delight  is  in  the  sensual  and  dis- 
gusting pleasures  of  a  wicked  world ;  in  vain  the 
fond  authors  of  his  existence  grieve  over  his  troubles, 
he   heedeth  not  their  counsel,   and  despiseth  their 
advice.     Follow  him  in  liis  career,  see  his  excite- 
ment at  the  billiard-table,  the  changes  that  affect  his 
countenance  on  the  betting-stand ;  what  visions  of 
gold  flit  constantly  before  him,  how  eager  he  is  to 


MONEY.  87 

obtain  them.  See  him  hurl  his  hat  in  the  air  at  the 
smile  of  fortiine,  but  in  the  reverse  turn  what  a 
horrid  grin  depicts  his  inward  trouble  !  What  a  dis- 
graceful picture  of  human  life,  to  see  a  man  trifling 
with  his  mental  capacities,  his  acquirements,  and 
talents,  with  every  virtue  he  possesses,  nay,  even 
bartering  tlicm  for  a  short  and  wretched  life, 
misei'ably  existing  in  the  ebbing  and  flowing  of  a 
sinful  tide  which  finally  swallows  him  up  for  ever  in 
its  deadly  vortex.  He  becomes  a  disgrace  to  his 
parental  roof,  and  the  slave  of  that  malignant  disease 
which  corrupteth  and  allayeth  the  only  spark  of 
morality  he  has  left,  lastly  bowing  in  the  prime  of 
his  days  to  that  destroying  sickle  which  waiteth  not. 
He  is,  as  the  flower  of  the  field,  forgotten,  and  they 
who  bore  witness  to  his  presence  know  it  no  more; 
and,  I  ask,  what  reflection  can  such  a  person  indulge 
in  upon  his  dying  couch.  But,  being  favoured  with 
the  greatest  blessings  of  life,  instead  of  turning  them 
to  the  right  account,  he  has  abused  their  service, 
violated  the  sacred  laws  of  heaven,  broken  the  bond 
of  human  faith,  and  allowed  evil  desires  to  prey  upon 
his  imaginations,  which  have  driven  him  hastily 
from  the  stage  of  life  to  await  his  resurrection  and 
the  sentence  of  his  Judge.  Now,  turning  to  the  last 
^jart  of  my  brief  essay,  I  beg  to  express  my  opinion 
regarding  the  value  a  wise  man  sets  upon  money  as 
concerns  earthly  things,  and  how  it  pertaineth  to 
happiness  in  a  future  state.  Hoping  in  the  ideas  of 
my  worthy  readers,  it  may  be  near  the  following  : 
Born  either  in  poor  or  affluent  circumstances,  he  is 
contented  with  his  lot;  though  Tortune  frowns  he 


88  ESSAYS. 

still  smiles;  although  he  owns  no  mine  of  gold,  no 
treasury  of  valuables,  he  is  possessed  of  that  prize 
which    they  cannot  purchase ;  for  if  a  man  has  a 
guilty   and   depraved   mind,    all   the   gold    in    the 
universe  cannot  afford  him  a  moment's  consolation  or 
comfort.     Though  he  is  held  in  derision  by  many  of 
his  fellow  creatures,  it  decreaseth  not  his  happiness ; 
though  briars  and  thorns  entangle  his  path,  by  per- 
severance and  cheerful  industry  he  overcometh  every 
obstacle ;  if  the  fickle  goddess  smiles  upon  him,  he 
expendeth  not  her  blessings  in  the  idle  and  empty 
pleasures  of  this  sinful  world,  but  as  the  careful  ant 
provideth  for  her  future  wants,  he  layeth  up  in  the 
summer  of  prosperity  for  the  winter  of  adversity. 
He  is  thankful   to   his    Maker  for  the   benefits   of 
health  and  plenty.      Though  money  is  the  root  of 
endless  evil,  is    it    not  the   foundation   of  pristine 
virtues  ?     For  it  is  given  to  be  a  blessing  upon  earth, 
though    by  its   abuse,  as  in   every  instance   when 
persons  desecrate  their  talents,  it  proveth  a  deadly 
poison  to  their  minds ;  while  others,  born  with  but 
bare  prospects  of  the  future,  have  by  prudent  indus- 
try attained  the  heights  of  honour  and  fame.     So, 
therefore,  my  humble  conclusion  is — amass  wealth, 
but  enjoy  it,  neither  squander  or  hoard  it,  but  let  it 
be  a  source  of  temporal  happiness  below,  and  a  tie 
of  cheerful  thankfulness  to    the   mysterious   trans- 
formation awaiting  us.     Man  ought  to  be  thankful 
for  and  not  abuse  the  kindness  of  Providence,  for  if 
money  is  allowed  to  be  the  spoke  and  act'ng  power 
of  an  evil  mind,  innumerable  results  will  follow  alike 
injurious  to  the  victim  as  the  author  of  the  mischief. 


MONET.  89 

Instead  of  money  in  that  case  proving  a  blessing,  it 
is  a  curse,  and  the  grand  idea  of  its  purpose  perverted. 
It  lopcth  all  its  virtues,  and  is  precisely  the  root  of 
incorruptible  evil.  So,  I  say,  it  is  a  desirable  trea- 
sure :  a  treasure  worth  having,  worth  striving  for. 
It  strengthens  virtue  m  the  wise  man ;  the  fool  it 
only  leadcth  into  trouble.  Lastly,  I  must  add,  we 
have  a  great  ambassador  below  as  a  substitute  for  its 
efficient  service,  which  is  contentment — the  gem  of 
hope,  the  spirit  of  happiness,  the  property  of  all,  at 
any  time,  at  any  season ;  so  to  those  bereft  of  the 
needful  commodity  I  advise  to  be  content  with  theii* 
lot ;  never  repine,  for  a  bright  day  will  dawn  after  a 
stormy  night.  To  those  in  possession  of  it  let  me 
add  :  Use  it  as  a  loan,  not  a  fixed  property,  for  you 
miist  leave  it,  and  it  will  then  prove  a  blessing  and  a 
lamp  to  light  you  from  the  dark  passage  of  human 
life. 


90  SONNETS. 


A  SPRING  MOENING. 

Beams  of  tlie  rising  sun,  'tis  with  delight 

1  view  your  playful  shadows  on  the  robe 
Of  graceful  Flora,  when  the  shades  of  night 

Depart,  which  wrap  in  peace  the  slumb'ring  globe. 
'Tis  with  delight  I  view  those  streaks  divine 

Break  from  the  chambers  of  the  eastern  sky ; 
In  purple  tints  they  from  the  heavens  shine. 

The  dewy  vapours. from  their  presence  fly. 
As  early  through  the  glassy  glade  I  rove, 

The  cuckoo's  blithesome  song  salutes  my  ear, 
The  glorious  odours  of  the  flowery  grove 

"With  lovely  blossoms  crown  th'  eventful  year. 
Oh,  hand  in  hand  may  peace  and  plenty  reign, 
And  clothe  our  fields  with  crops  of  golden  grain. 


SUMMER. 

Sweet  is  the  prospect  of  a  summer's  day. 

When  Sol's  bright  chariot  rides  along  the  sky ; 
As  from  the  trees  the  lively  songsters  gay 

Pour  forth  their  notes  in  joyous  minstrelsy. 
Sweet  is  the  scene  that  meets  the  viewing  eye, 

As  to  the  brook  the  restless  cattle  rush  ; 
As  gaudy  insects  speed  their  flight  on  high, 

And  woods  resound  the  watchnote  of  the  thrush. 
As  graceful  Flora  sprinkles  in  the  grove 

Her  gems  so  fair,  so  beauteous  to  behold ; 
As  whispering  suitors  tell  the  tale  of  love, — 

Beneath  the  hawthorn  tidings  blest  unfold  ; 
"When  Nature  wears  the  smile  of  open  bliss, 
And  her  fair  children  bloom  in  happiness. 


SONNKTS.  91 


AUTUMN. 

"What  raptured  feelings  iu  our  minds  arise, 

As  we  behold  the  fading  trees  around ; 
Now  Autumn's  gales  rush  fiercely  through  the  skies, 

And  strew  their  foliage  on  the  barren  ground. 
The  well-known  messenger  of  sunny  days, 

The  swallow,  leaves  our  isle  for  warmer  air ; 
The  little  ants  their  many  hillocks  raise, 

And  for  the  winter's  freezing  blasts  prepare  ; 
"While  Nature  kind,  to  every  want  sincere. 

Her  creatures  clothes  with  nicely  woven  fur, 
Which  must  remind  us  of  our  journey  here, 

A  needful  lesson  to  our  minds  confer : 
For  when  the  Autumn  of  our  life  is  past, 
"We  must  be  ready  for  the  coming  blast. 


WINTER. 

Lo  !  unrelenting  "^'^inter  comes  at  last, 

"With  his  attendants  in  their  solemn  line ; 
He  stamps  his  ardour  iu  the  piercing  blast, 

His  cold  embrace  the  watery  plains  combine. 
The  forest  kings  as  lifeless  statues  stand, 

With  dark  impressions  fill  the  gloomy  scene, 
"While  Nature's  children  die  throughout  the  land. 

Their  future  advent  cannot  yet  be  seen. 
There  is  no  singing  in  the  leatless  grove. 

But  all  is  silent  as  the  shade  of  death; 
No  warbling  songster  echoes  forth  its  love 

In  tuneful  strain;  while  cold  is  Flora's  breath, 
Till  spring  shall  dawn  amid  her  glories  here. 
And  gild  the  preface  of  the  coming  year. 


92  SONNET  ! 


PRIDE 


0  MAN  !  behold  the  starry  vault,  or  look' 
At  nature's  pencil  in  the  lovely  flower  ; 

Survey  the  ocean  or  the  crystal  brook, 

Or  smell  the  perfume  of  the  fragrant  bower. 

Think  of  the  itaker  of  them  all,  sublime ; 

Remember  He's  the  same  who  made  the  worm 

That  crawls  unseen,  the  constant  friend  of  Time, 
The  ruthless  waster  of  thy  lowly  form. 

1  say,  'tis  He  who  for  just  purpose  made 

Thee  but  of  dust ;  where  is  thy  might  and  pride  ? 
Think  not  of  beauty,  which  in  time  will  fade. 

Or  gold,  which  all  ere  long  must  lay  aside ; 
Divest  thyself  of  all  such  empty  show, 
Thy  Maker  learn,  thy  feeble  nature  know. 


CONTENTMENT. 

'TwAS  on  a  common's  wide  and  wild  domain, 

Beneath  a  rock  a  little  spring  was  hid ; 
Fed  by  pure  and  refreshing  rain. 

It  trickled  gladly  through  its  sandy  bed. 
Proceeding  through  the  wild  and  sunny  vale, 

Through  tangled  thicket,   next  through  fruitful 
glade. 
It  hurried  forth  in  true,  though  gentle  swell, 

And  in  each  ravine  formed  a  white  cascade. 
As  human  minds,  though  oft  by  fate  misled, 

Its  waters  tinged,  and  in  contempt  oft  driven, 
It  ceased  not  to  flow,  but  onward  made 

Its  rolling  course  to  please  the  will  of  Heaven. 
So  by  Contentment,  if  the  mind  is  blest 
Of  man,  by  fate  how  can  it  be  deprest  ? 


SONNETS.  93 


FRIENDSHIP. 


[ 


L 


Man,  if  thou  hast  no  friend  thou  art  undone — 

A  friend  in  truth  I  mean ;  not  one  that  leaves 
Or  quits  thy  presence  in  the  adverse  turn 

Of  fortune,  but  who  in  his  mind  receives 
Part  of  thy  troubles  and  thy  worldly  care ; 

Who  brings  thee  safely  through  tlie  storm  at  last 
Then  if  thy  friend  is  suffered  worse  to  fare, 

Grant  him  assistance  through  the  cruel  blast : 
For  clouds  of  dark  adversity  in  might, 

Will  dim  the  glories  of  the  brightest  day ; 
But  through  the  mist  of  its  infernal  height, 

Kind  perseverance  fights  her  onward  way, 
Wliilst  unforgotten  back  to  memory  cling 
The  smiles  of  fortune  in  life's  early  spring. 


ON  THE  DEATH  OF  THE 
REV.  G.  CRABBE. 

What  need  of  Homer's  verse,  or  Tully's  phrase, 

0  Crabbe,  while  thou  liest  in  the  silent  tomb ; 
When  Nature's  dictate,  ardent  in  thy  praise, 

Shall  own  thy  memory  in  years  to  come. 
One  who  in  birth  by  fate  sublime  was  blest 

With  every  charm  by  magic  genius  given, 
And  in  thy  life  thy  virtues  were  confest, 

A  beam  reflected  from  the  rays  of  heaven. 
But  He  who  dwells  in  endless  light  above. 

Thought  thee  deserving  of  a  better  fate 
Than  scanning  human  life,  so  in  His  love 

Took  thee  to  reign  in  pure  celestial  state ! 
And  many  wish  that  Time's  last  days  were  done. 
Their  hearts  and  thine  had  mingled  into  one. 


94  SONKEXS. 


ROEBUCK'S  SPEECH  ON  THE 
CONSPIRACY  BILL,  1858. 

Sweet  to  the  Briton  is  the  sound  of  peace, 

He  loves  to  view  the  gales  of  heaven  blow  free. 
But  if  harsh  fate  bids  human  power  cease, 

To  dwell  agreed  he  asks  for  liberty. 
There  was  a  time  when  duty's  path  was  bare, 

But  blest  with  honour ;  lo  !  I  quickly  saw, 
Well  clad  for  conquest,  thee  on  it  appear ; 

I  heard  thee  tell  the  world  thy  country's  law. 
With  confidence  that  only  could  exist 

In  pure  minds,  thou  spake ;  the  brilliant  rays 
Of  thy  great  genius  shone  ;  lo  !  fled  the  mist ; 

Thou  provedst  to  England's  Senate  Virtue's  ways. 
Oh,  Eoebuck  !  thou  deservest  esteem  and  love 
From  all  that's  just  below,  that's  blest  above. 


TO  A  MISER. 

Why  dost  thou  think,  0  man,  that  gold  was  made 

To  be  thy  god,  the  idol  of  thy  heart ; 
The  ruling  power  where  thy  hopes  are  laid. 

The  only  spring  from  whence  thy  joys  depart  ? 
Why  lay  up  treasures  where  the  thief  may  steal, 

Or  hoard  in  coflt'ers  for  corruption's  spoil  ? 
Ill-gotten  riches,  who  thy  views  conceal, 

In  dire  sorrows  dip  thy  mortal  coil. 
0  vain,  0  simple  man  !  to  cast  away 

Those  lasting  joys  which  never,  never  die. 
For  empty  pleasures  which  in  time  decay, 

And  at  the  mercy  of  the  tempter  lie. 
^lelt  up  thy  golden  god,  forget  the  loss, 
Believe  in  Christ,  and  bear  His  holy  cross. 


SONNETS. 


95 


CHILDHOOD. 

How  sweet  to  muse  upon  that  faded  scene, 

Or  in  kind  memory  to  reflect  a  view 
From  school-boy's  pastime  on  the  village  green, 

Close  by  the  cottage  where  the  hawthorn  grew. 
How  oft-  our  garb  was  trimmed  with  decent  care, 

Though  noticed  little  in  our  lightsome  thought, 
And  oft  replaced  our  ever  ruffled  hair, 

Whilst  Time  again  to  us  our  troubles  brought. 
How  oft  were  pictured  to  ourselves  those  days 

Of  happier  visions  and  unclouded  skies  ; 
And  fancied  pleasures  linger  in  the  rays 

Of  brighter  suns,  alas  !  which  never  rise. 
We  little  kno-^ang  heavier  cares  and  strife 
Await  the  traveller  from  the  spring  of  life. 


chiiist:\ias. 

Again  December's  race' is  well-nigh  run. 

Another  year  is  flitting  from  the  stage 
Of  Time ;  and  seldom  shall  the  rising  sun 

Difl'use  its  beams  before  another  age 
Its  reign  begins.    But  let  us  cease  awhile  ; 

Another  guest  intrudes  and  takes  apart; 
He  changes  Winter's  If  own  into  a  smile, 

With  joyful  glee  he  visits  every  heart, — 
'Tis  Chi'istmas  ;  and  as  waters  in  the  dells 

Of  ocean  caverns  constantly  pour  forth, 
Their  cheerful  and  unwearied  canticles. 

So  let  us  praise  his  efforts  here  on  earth. 
And  may  the  sounds  of  many  nations  clear 
Unite  in  peace  to  meet  the  coming  year. 


96  SONNETS. 


TIME. 


0  ALL  devourer  of  tlie  might  of  man, 

"Whose  feeble  doings  sink  beneath  thy  stream ; 
Thou  givest  out  the  measure  of  his  span, 

His  actions  are  all  but  an  empty  dream ; 
Thou  thinnest  with  thy  sword  the  ranks  of  life. 

Whilst  all  that's  mortal  owns  thy  powerful  sway  ; 
The  hush  of  peace,  yea,  and  the  battle's  strife, 

Fall  chosen  victims  of  thy  powerless  prey. 
Tea,  and  the  warrior  in  his  laurels  bright, 

The  midnight  genii  and  their  prophecies, 
Are  sunk  in  truth  from  all  discerning  sight ; 

But  passing  thought  denotes  their  fallacies. 
So  wilt  thou  roll  till  this  frail  orb  in  fire 
Shall  end,  and  all,  yea  all  that  is,  expire. 


FAITH. 

0  GEEAT  inspirer  of  the  human  frame. 

Who  tunest  our  efforts  to  a  blest  desire. 
Thee  with  thy  sisters  bear  the  foremost  claim 

To  earthly  gratitude  in  heavenly  fire. 
Thou  cheer'st  the  latent  drooping  scene  of  life, 

And  throw' st  a  beam  across  the  darkest  mind 
Though  tempests  rage  and  evil  gusts  are  rife, 

If  thou  but  smile,  to  fate  we  are  resigned. 
0  noble  grant !  by  law  of  sacred  love 

Thou  lightest  up  this  mortal  wilderness  ; 
By  thee  we  hope  to  live  in  courts  above. 

Throw  off  our  sins  and  dwell  in  happiness. 
May  thy  bright  shadow  to  us  ever  be 
A  guide  to  live  in  blest  eternity. 


SONNETS.  97 


HOPE. 


0  BLEST  companion  of  my  early  life, 

Fate  cannot  harm  thy  pure  immortal  fame  ; 
Though  vice  assails  thee  with  its  envious  strife, 

It  falleth  short  to  hurt  thy  glorious  name. 
Though  mists  and  storms  encircle  me  around, 

Though  Fortune  fails  from  her  benignant  store 
Me  to  supply,  yet  I  court  not  the  sound 

Of  wealth,  but  hope  for  peace  when  time  is  o'er. 
Though  health  itself,  the  greatest  blessing  here, 

Denies  me  succour,  yet  1  look  above, 
And  true  my  mind  is  void  of  every  fear  ; 

If  death  itself  approaches,  'tis  in  love. 
Te  mortals  here,  who  dwell  beneath  the  sky, 
Cling  not  to  earth,  but  place  your  hopes  on  high. 


CHARITY. 

I  CAME  into  the  world  and  took  a  view 

Of  human  nature  in  its  fairest  light  ; 
I  saw  vast  numbers  on  the  path  pursue 

Of  changing  fate  their  future  scenes  more  bright ; 
I  saw  the  beggar  sitting  by  the  way 

Entreating  alms,  but  on  the  other  side 
The  haughty  pass'd ;  for  how  could  they  betray 

Their  high  desires,  or  insult  their  pride  ? 
But  lo,  I  saw  approach,  of  modest  Tame, 

A  being,  who,  though  humble,  wore  a  smile 
Of  love  ;  he  fed  the  beggar,  ask'd  his  name. 

And  shared  with  hi  in  the  blessings  of  his  pile. 
At  this,  I  said,  "  Enough,  for  I  have  seen 
The  joy  of  life — earth's  most  endearing  scene." 

n 


98  SONNETS. 


APEIL. 


Again,  0  changeful  April,  we  discern 

Thy  varying  sunshine  and  thy  sudden  hail ; 
A  glimpse  of  Summer  and  the  dark  return 

Of  cheerless  "Winter  in  the  stormy  gale. 
Again  dame  !N^ature's  works  we  see  array'd 

In  graceful  foliage,  and  the  verdure  green 
Covers  the  earth,  while  plainly  is  displayed 

The  gilded  prospect  of  a  brighter  scene. 
But  why  dost  thou  to  empty  hopes  give  rise, 

Or  in  thy  course  a  murmur  entertain. 
While  Iris  with  her  colours  paints  thy  skies. 

And  the  dark  clouds  discharge  the  falling  rain  ? 
But  now  to  thee  we  grateful  homage  pay. 
Although  dark  shadows  dim  thy  brightest  day. 


HUMAN  LIFE. 

I  FANCIED  on  the  bridge  of  life  I  stood  : 

Beneath  its  arch  I  saw  the  human  tide 
Flow  on  with  Time  in  its  eventful  flood, 

I  saw  upon  its  surf  a  child  and  guide ; 
Its  guide  was  Truth,  who  held  its  fairy  form 

In  safety  from  the  wildness  of  the  stream. 
Girt  in  true  wisdom,  proof  against  the  storm. 

While  passing  o'er  it  sung  a  noble  theme. 
I  look'd  again,  when,  lo,  an  earthly  god 

Appeared,  while  hundreds  in  his  train  he  bore. 
Each  in  their  hands  upheld  a  golden  rod ; 

And  lo  !  at  once  they  sank  to  rise  no  more. 
I  now  thought  I  was  struggling  in  the  stream. 
But,  glad  surprise !  I  found  'twas  but  a  dream. 


SONNETS. 


EVENING. 


99 


Behold,  reflected  in  the  western  sky, 

Apollo's  rays.     The  beauties  of  the  day 
Depart  in  peace,  to  other  regions  fly, 

Whilst  night  again  assumes  her  solemn  sway. 
Another  race  of  her  career  is  o'er; 

Another  day  hath  passed  in  fleeting  age; 
But  all  is  gone,  and  can  return  no  more 

To  deck  the  glories  of  the  fairest  page. 
No  more  my  ears  with  worldly  noises  ring  ; 

The  busy  multitudes  in  silent  sleep 
Are  hushed ;  though  gloom  around  her  shadows 


fling. 


I 


I  see  fair  Luna  from  the  azure  peep. 
She  throws  around  us  her  white  stainless  robe, 
And  wraps  in  silver  light  the  slumbering  globe. 


WAR. 

Alas  !  what  is  that  voice,  that  furious  cry 

Of  human  discord  sounding  in  the  ear  ? 
"XNIiat  is  that  echo  bounding  far  on  high  ? 

Or  what's  the  object  of  its  visit  here? 
"Why  is  the  iron  phalanx  armed  for  fight  ? 

Why  do  the  nations  court  the  ghastly  tomb 
Of  death,  and  mingle  in  the  cup  of  spite 

More  fatal  poison  to  increase  their  doom  ? 
Why  do  they  tinge  the  rippling  brook  with  blood  ? 

Or  urge  the  peasant  to  the  direst  fate 
Of  war,  as  worthless  but  for  carrion  food  ? 

How  weak  is  man,  instead  of  nobly  great. 
Soon  may  that  morning  dawn  of  beauties  rare  : 
The  spear  a  sickle  be,  the  sword  a  share  ! 

H  2 


100  SONNEIS. 


PEACE. 


Lo,  blissful  silence  rules  the  worldly  scene, 

iSTo  sound  of  discord  rides  along  the  air ; 
The  powers  of  Heaven  with  the  Fates  convene 

Of  earth  to  hold  their  tranquil  meeting  here. 
No  sound  is  heard,  no  clarion  horseman  calls 

His  brother  warriors  to  the  desp'rate  fight ; 
No  cannon's  boom,  no  fiery  shaft  appals, 

Or  camp  fire  throws  across  the  plain  its  light. 
The  little  stream  no  more  is  tinged  with  blood, 

No  grieving  mother  hangs  her  doleful  head, 
No  more  the  hungry  vultures  seek  their  food, 

Or  rav'ning  wolves  fight  o'er  the  mangled  dead. 
But  peace  on  earth  makes  known  her  loving  sway. 
The  nations  hear,  and  willingly  obey. 


TRUTH. 

0  viEGiN  of  simplicity !     0  child 

Of  pure  virtue,  how  can  I  behold 
Thy  favoured  smile,  thy  actions  ever  mild, 

Thy  love,  which  never,  never  groweth  cold, 
"Without  admiring  ?     In  the  greatest  might 

Of  troubles,  which  thy  godly  actions  prove, 
The  deed  that  bears  thee  to  the  skies  of  light 

Transmits  thy  actions  to  the  world  above, 
Whilst  fiction  fades  and  cunning  ways  do  fail 

To  meet  their  proof.    Without  desponding  care. 
Thou  walk'st  triumphant  to  the  judgment  rail. 

Arrayed  in  beauties  of  the  brightest  glare. 
0  virgin,  can  I  but  obtain  from  thee 
Thy  valued  smile,  I  am  for  ever  free  ! 


SOiSNETS.  101 


DESPAIR. 


0  HARSH  Despair,  shall  it  my  soul  betray  ? 

Or  shall  I  sink  into  its  depths  profound, 
AVhilst  one  fair  glimpse  of  Heaven  cheers  my  way 

Below,  whilst  one  kind  hope  to  me  is  found  ? 
0  horrid  fate !   to  bid  the  scenes  adieu 

Of  life,  however  chequered  they  appear. 
Whilst  we  remain,  I  doubt  it  not,  a  few 

Enraptured  joys  will  smile,  our  hearts  to  cheer. 
Give  not  thy  mind,  0  man,  to  stern  despair; 

Though  grief  is  hard,  'tis  not  for  thee  alone. 
How  oft  we  deem  the  worst  of  all  our  fare. 

And  place  the  darkest  trials  as  our  own. 
Why  should  we  faint  when  there's  a  world  above 
Demands  our  zeal,  our  reason,  and  our  love  ? 


THE  SABBATH. 

How  sweet  it  is  upon  that  hallow'd  mom, 

When  sacred  thoughts  for  once  our  minds  inspire. 
To  hear  those  sounds,  on  flippant  breezes  borne, 

That  break  in  torrents  from  the  village  spire  ; 
How  sweet  to  drive  all  empty  cares  away. 

And  lend  our  voices  to  the  solemn  song. 
To  think  of  Heaven  on  that  holy  day, 

Throw  off  the  world,  with  all  its  bustling  throng; 
And  who  with  eyes  unchanged  can  view  those  stones 

That  mark  the  spot  where  our  forefathers  sleep, 
Denote  where  lie  at  rest  their  weary  bones, 

And  faithful  watchings  o'er  their  bodies  keep, 
Without  remembering  man  is  in  his  bloom 
To-day — to-morrow  sleeping  in  the  tomb  ? 


102  SONNETS. 


BOSTON  CHURCH. 

Oft  as  I  view  thy  mighty  tower,  that  rears 

Its  head  in  pride  unto  the  lofty  skies, 
Eomantic  legends  of  departed  years, 

With  their  strange  stories,  in  my  mind  arise ; 
I  think  I  hear  again  that  solemn  peal 

Of  holy  voices  in  their  heavenly  song ; 
I  see  them  at  thy  sacred  altars  kneel, 

And  sable  knights  thy  ancient  cloisters  throng. 
0  noble  pile  !  0  truly  sacred  place  ! 

Though  in  thy  sepulchres  our  fathers  sleep, 
Now  they  have  long  since  run  their  earthly  race, 

And  trailing  mosses  o'er  their  bodies  creep. 
"We  know  that  we  shall  soon  our  sceptre  yield, 
Submit  to  death,  and  others  take  the  field. 


A  SONNET  ON  THE  REMAINS  OF 
SLEAFORD  CASTLE. 

0  NOBLE  relic  of  the  bygone  age, 

Whose  massive  walls  retained  our  fathers'  trust, 
Thou,  like  thy  builders,  from  the  varying  page 

Of  Time  hast  fallen  to  mingle  with  the  dust ; 
Thy  mighty  towers  long  have  disappear' d ; 

That  ancient  keep,  that  in  its  glory  stood, 
Has  fall'n  to  ruin ;  where  the  turrets  rear'd 

Their  heads  in  pride,  I  view  the  rippling  flood. 
JSTo  more  in  thee  I  hear  the  clashing  sound 

Of  horsemen  gathering  for  the  bloody  fight. 
But  lowing  cattle  feed  upon  that  ground. 

And  herbage  clothes  the  hillocks  of  thy  site. 
Thy  former  glory  now  is  l)ut  a  tale 
That  shows  how  vain  is  man,  his  works  how  frail. 


SONNETS.  10;J 


LIFE. 


SwEEX  to  the  fainting  pilgrim  is  the  stream, 

Sweet  to  the  captive  tidings  of  being  free, 
Sweet  to  the  weary  sleep's  refreshing  dream, 

But  sweeter  than  all  is  life's  blest  liberty. 
But  yet,  its  sweets  how  varied,  how  unsure. 

Its  joys  uncertain  ;  as  the  summei''s  sun 
Reclines  to  rest  while  fretful  tempests  pour 

Their  sudden  rage,  so  soon  its  glory  done  ! 
But  there  are  visions  fair  to  human  sight. 

Of  lasting  peace,  of  never-euding  bliss, 
Where  all  may  wear  a  robe  of  spotless  light, 

Where  all  may  dwell  in  one  fond  happiness. 
So,  be  prepared  !  for  Death,  come  when  he  may, 
The  rich  and  poor  alike  his  rule  obey. 


DEATH. 

Oh,  ghastly  King  !  whose  legions  at  command 

Bear  forth  the  orders  of  thy  mighty  Avill, 
How  swift  thy  message  runneth  through  the  land,. 

To  bid  the  voice  of  mortal  sound  be  still. 
How  sudden,  too,  thou  enterest  at  the  dome. 

And  robb'st  the  noble  of  his  offspring  dear  ! 
How  dark  thy  presence  in  the  peasant's  home, 

To  cut  the  tie  that  binds  his  feelings  here  ! 
Alas  !  though  Vice,  thy  willing  aide-de-camp,. 

Doth  make  sad  ravage  in  thy  service  rife. 
May  Vu'tue  strew  her  blessings  'mid  the  throng, 

And  Truth  unseal  the  sacred  law  of  life : 
For  love  can  conquer,  Grace  can  bear  the  sting, 
'Tis  but  Humanity  obeys  her  King  ! 


PATRONS. 


Copies. 

The  Earl  of  Yarborough 

•  •  • 

..  ■ 

...       2 

The  Earl  of  Ripon      ... 

... 

•  t . 

...       6 

The  Right  Honourable  Lord  Naas 

... 

...       3 

Lord  Aveland 

•  ■  ■ 

••• 

...       1 

Lord  Monson 

..  • 

••  • 

...       6 

Lord  Willoughby  d'Eresby 

... 

•  •  a 

...       6 

The  Lord  Mayor  of  London 

•  •• 

■  •• 

...       6 

Sir  J.  S.  Pakington,  M.P. 

.«  • 

•  .  . 

5 

Sir  J.  TroUope,  Bart.,  M.P. 

..  ■ 

... 

...       5 

Sir  C.  Anderson,  Bart. 

•  •  • 

•  .  . 

...       3 

Sir  G.  E.  Welby,  Bart. 

..« 

•  «  • 

...       5 

His  Grace  the  Duke  of  Rutland 

•  .. 

...       2 

The  Right  Honourable  C.  T. 

D'Eyncourt 

5 

The  Right  Honourable  C.  N. 

Hamilton 

...     10 

J.  A.  Roebuck,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...       2 

Major  Sibthorp,  M.P. 

...       6 

Major  Amcotts 

...       4 

Major  Moore 

...       3 

A.  Wilson,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...       5 

Herbert  Ingram,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...     12 

W.  H.  Adams,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...       2 

Banks  Stanhope,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...     10 

G.  T.  Heueage,  Esq.,  M.P. 

...       2 

The  Mayor  of  Boston 

...       2 

The  Mayor  of  Lincoln 

...       2 

The  Mayor  of  Newark 

...       2 

106  LIST  OF  SUBSCRIBEES, 

Copies.. 
J.  Sharp,  Esq.,  J.P.    ...  ...  .„  ...       1 

C.  Allix,  Esq.,  J.P.      ...  ...  ...  ...       2 

J.  F.  Smyth,  Esq.,  J.P.  ...  ...  ...       1 

W.  Hutton,  Esq.,  J.P.  ...  ...  ...       2 

M.  P.  Moore,  Esq.,  C.P.  ...  ...  ...       2 

T.  Wise,  Esq.,  J.P 1 

The  Rev.  E.  Trollope,  M.A.      ...  ...  ...       2 

The  Rev.  B.  Beridge,  M.A.        ...  ...  ...       2 

The  Rev.  H.  Manton,  B.A.        ...  ...  ...       2 

The  Rev.  G.  E.  Pattenden        ...  ...  ...       1 

The  Rev.  F.  Latham  ...  ...  ...  ...       2 

The  Rev.  Isham  Case,  M.A.      ...  ...  ...       2 

The  Rev.  John  Wilson,  M.A.    ...  ...  ...       2 

Allen,  M.  E.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...       2 

Alderson,  A.,  Esq. 
Alderson,  W.,  Esq.,  Aslackby    ... 
Asling,  Mr.,  Boston    ... 
Atkin,  Mr.,  Boston 
Abrahams,  Mr.,  Boston 
Barford,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 
Blades,  Mr.  S.,  Boston 
Baker,  Mr.  J.,  Boston 
Bargewell,  Mr.,  Boston 
Buchanan,  Mr.,  Boston 
Buck,  Mr.  James,  Boston 
Bazlinton,  Mr.,  Boston 
Bartol,  Mrs.,  Boston  ... 
British  Museum 
Brown,  Mr.  J.,  Sleaford 
Boyer,  Mr.,  Sleaford  ... 
Brooks,  Mr.,  Sleaford 
Brown,  Mr.,  Ilolbeach 
Ball,  Mr.,  London 
Bridges,  Mr.,  London 


LIST  OF  SURSCKIBEKS. 


107 


Blount,  Mr.,  London 
Brenn,  Mr.,  London 
Booth,  Mr.,  Boston 
Bailey,  Mr.,  Boston 
Barratt,  Mr.,  Boston 
Bates,  Mr.,  Boston 
Baines,  Mr.,  Boston 
Brown,  Mr.  Boston 
Bampton,  Mr.,  Sleaford 
Battle,  Mr.  J.  K,  Lincoln 
Christopher,  Mr.,  Heckington 
Clayton,  Mr.  T.  L.,  Boston 
Clayton,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 
Clegg,  Dr.,  Boston      ,_ 
Costall,  Mr.,  Boston    ... 
Challans,  Mr.,  Boston 
Cole,  Mr.,  Boston 
Cross,  Mr.,  Boston 
Chantry,  ]\Ir.,  Boston 
Chevins,  Mr.,  Boston 
Croft,  Mr,,  Boston 
Cooper,  Mr.,  Boston    ... 
Chevin,  Mr.,  Sleaford 
Cartwright,  Mr.  E.,  Sleaford 
Cartwright,  Mrs.,  Ashby 
Count,  Mr.  J.  C,  Sleaford 
Copeland,  Mr.,  Sibsey 
Clarke,  Mr.,  London  ... 
Cooke,  JNIr.,  London    ... 
Calvert,  Mr.  T.,  Branston 
Daubney,  Mr.,  Boston 
Dawber,  Mr.  jun.,  Lincoln 
Dunn,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 
Dixon,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 


Copies. 
2 


2 
1 
2 


108  LIST  OF  STJBSCEIBEES. 

Copies. 

Dawson,  Mr.  W.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...       1 

Dickenson,  ]\Ir.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...       2 

Dickenson,  Mr.,  Sleaford 
Day,  Mrs.,  Sleaford    ... 
Elkington,  Mr.,  Boston 
Ely,  Mr.,  Boston 
Elwood,  Mr,,  Sleaford 
Elmore,  Mr.,  Sleaford 
EUerby,  Mr.,  Manchester 
Fry,  J.  Esq.,  Sleaford 
Freaks,  Mr.,  Lynn 
Fowler,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 
Forman,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 
Fernside,  Mr.,  Alford 
Freeman,  Mr.,  Yarmouth 
Gale,  Mr.,  Boston 
Guy,  Mr.,  Boston 
Green,  Mr.,  Boston 
Geddings,  Mr.,  Boston 
Gask,  Mr.,  Boston 
Goodacre,  Mr.,  Boston 
Goodacre,  Mr.,  Sleaford 

Gill,  Mr.  J.,  Sleaford 

Goodson,  Miss 

Grey,  Miss   ... 

Greenwood,  Miss,  Easton  ... 

Godson,  R.  Esq.,  Heckington    ... 

Gambles,  Mr.,  Lincoln 

Hood,  Mr.,  Boston 

Haylock,  Mr.,  Boston 

Holland,  Mr.,  Boston 

Hill,  Mr.,  Boston 

Howard,  ^Ir.,  Boston ... 

Horry,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 

Honour,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 


LIST  OP  SITBSCEIBEKS.  109 

Copies- 

Ilucldlestone,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Hol)son,  Mr..  Boston  ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Hall,  jMr.,  Boston        ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Hattersly,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Harwood,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Huddlcstone,  Mr.  F.,  Lincoln  ...  ...  ...  1 

Holdich,  L.,  Esq.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Heald,  Mr.  B.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Hardy,  Mr.  Jno.,  Ewerby  ...  ...  ...  1 

Ingamells,  ]\Ir.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Ingoldsby,  Mr.  J.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  ] 

Jackson,  Mr.  D.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Jackson,  Mr.  G.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Jackson,  Mr.  C,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Jones,  Mr.  G.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Jay,  Mr.,  Boston         ...  ...  ...  ...  I 

Jobson,  Mr.,  Boston    ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

King,  ]\Ir.,  Boston       ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Keal,  Mr.,  Boston       ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Kent,  Mr.,  Sleaford    ...  ...  ...  ...  12 

Lyall,  Mr.,  Boston      ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Love,  Mr.,  Boston       ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Lucas,  Mr.,  Boston     ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Lammerman,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Lynes,  Mr.,  Boston     ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Long,  Mr.,  Boston       ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Lock,  Mr.  W.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  3 

Large,  Mr.,  Boston      ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Lewin,  Mr.  E.  C,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  2 

Little,  Mr.  J.  C,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 


1 


Lamb,  Mr.,  Sleaford    ... 

Marshall,  Mr.  R.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  20 

Mallinson,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ..  ...  1 

Marjason,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Mimmacks,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 


no 


LIST  OF  SUBSCKIBEES. 


Copies. 

Muschamp,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  i 

Metcalf,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  i 

Massingham,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  i 

Marriott,  Mr. 
Mowson,  Mr. 

Morton,  Mr.  John,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  i 

Marshall,  Mr.  James,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  i 

Musson,  ]\Ir.  J.,  Kirkby  ...  ...  „.  i 

Mastin,  Mr.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  i 

Marston,  Mr.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  l 

Morris,  Mr.,  Heckington  ...  ...  ...  1 

Nicholson  T,.  Esq.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  2 

Norris,  Mr.,  Boston     ...  ...  ...  ...  i 

Nicholls,  Mr.  T.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Overton,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  ...  i 

Ostler,  Mr.  W.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Ostler,  Mr.  A.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Oldrid,  Mr.  J.  jun.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Oldfield,  Mr.  J.,  Bradford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Pearson,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Pilley,  Mr.  J.,  Boston  ...  ,.  ...  I 

Pinches,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Poppleton,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Panell.  Mr.,  Boston     ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Parker,  Mr.,  Boston   ...  ...  ...  ...  1 

Pierre,  Mr.  IL,  London  ...  ...  ...  19 

Partridge,  Mr.,  Heckington  ...  ...  ...  1 

Parker,  ^Irs.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Parker,  Mr.  H.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Pridgeon,  Mr.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Parry,  T.,  Esq., Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  2 

Petchel,  Mr.,  Sleaford  ...  ...  ...  1 

Powers,  Miss,  Biggleswade  ...  ...  ...  1 

Queenborough,  Mr.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 

Rice,  C.  Esq.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...  1 


LIST  OF  SUBSCBIBEBS.  Ill 

Copies. 
Ranyell,  Mr.,  Boston 
Ridlington,  Mr.,  Boston 
Richards,  Mr.,  Boston 
Rhodes,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 
Rhodes,  Mr.  T.,  Boston 
Ranson,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 
Robinson,  Mr.,  Boston 
Rogers,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 
Rogers,  Mr.,  Boston    ... 
Rodgers,  C,  Esq.,  Sleaford 
Rycroft,  Mr.  I.,  Hale 
Spurr,  Mr.  G.,  Boston 
Slator,  Mr.  T.  jun.,  Boston 
Stower,  Mr.,  Boston    ... 
Selby,  Mr.,  Boston 
Stocks,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 
Snaith,  Frederick,  Esq. 
Snaith,  Frank,  Esq.     ...  ...  ... 

Snaith,  Mr.  P.,  Boston 

Small,  Mr.  J.  H.,  Boston 

Simonds,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 

Stennett,  Mr.,  Boston... 

Storr,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 

Skinner,  Mr.  J.,  Boston 

Skinner,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 

South,  Mr.,  Boston 

Spencer,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 

Smiths,  Messrs.,  Boston  ...  ...  ...     19 

Stainton,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 

Sharpe,  Mr.,  Donington 

Spencer,  Miss,  London 

Spencer,  Mr.  T.,  Sleaford 

Scholey,  Mr.,  Metheringham     ... 

Simpson,  Mr.,  Heckington 

Taylor,  Messrs.  ...  ...  ...  ...     12 


112  LIST  OF  STJBSCJaiBEES. 

Copies. 

Thomas,  J.  H.,  Esq.,  Boston     ...  ...  ...       4 

Tomlinson,  J.,  Esq.,  Boston,  U.S.  ...  ...       6 

Tomlin,  A.,  Esq.,  Heckington  ... 
Thornhill,  Mr.,  Lincoln 
Trevitt,  Mr.,  Boston   ... 
Universities... 
Wells,  Mr.  J.,  Boston 
Wells,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 
Willoughby,  Mr.,  Boston 
Wighton,  Mr.,  Boston 
Waite,  Mr.,  Boston     ... 
Wright,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 

Williamson,  Mr.,  Boston 

Willson,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 

Weston,  Mr.,  Boston  ... 

Whitworth,  Mr.,  Boston 

Wray,  Mr.,  Boston 

Wood,  Mr.,  Boston 

Wingate,  Mr.,  Hareby 

Williams,  Mr.,  Sleaford 

Weston,  Mr.  T.  F.,  Sleaford      ... 

Young,  Mr.  W.  H.,  Boston 

Young,  Mr.  G.,  Boston 

Young,  Mr.  W.,  Boston 

Young,  Dr.,  Boston     ... 

York,  G.,  Esq.,  Boston 

Yeatman,  C,  Esq.,  Boston 

This  List  comprises  only  my  private  Subscribers, 
exclusive  of  those  secured  by  my  respective  agents. 


BOSTON  :  JOHN  MOETON,  MARKET  PLACE. 


AVORKS  PRINTED  AND  PUBLISHED 

BY 

JOHN  MORTON, 

MARKET     PLACE,     BOSTON. 


LINCOLNSHIRE  CHURCHES. 

A    DESCRIPTIVE    AND    HISTORICAL    ACCOUNT    OF    THE 
CHURCHES  OF  THE  DIVISION  OF  HOLLAND. 

WITH   UPWARDS  OF  SEVENTY  PLATES. 

Comprising,  besides  the  general  views,  numerous  Details, 
Ground-plans,  Crosses,  "Windows,  &c.  &c. 

In  1  vol.,  ito,  X'3  3s. ;  8vo,  31s.  Ud. 


BOSTON    CHURCH. 

A   DESCRIPTIVE  AND   HISTORICAL  ACCOUNT  OF   ST. 
BOTOLPH'S  CHURCH,  BOSTON. 

WITH    THIRTEEN    LITHOGRAPHED    PLATES. 

In  1  vol.,  8vo,  5s. 


Published  annually,  price  6d. 


MORTON'S   LINCOLNSHIRE   ALMANACK 
AND  DIARY 

Is  published  Annually,  in  October. 
The  Calendar  is  printed  in  a  fine  large  type. 

IT    COMPEISES   A    DIAEY   FOK    MEMORANDUMS    FOR    EVERY    DAY 
IN  THE  YEAR  ; 

LOCAL  HISTORY  AND  BIOGRAPHY,  WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS  ; 

DIRECTORY  OF  BOSTON ; 

COPY    OF    HEAD-STONE    AND    TOMB    INSCRIPTIONS  ; 

TIDE    TABLES  ;    LINCOLNSHIRE    CHARITIES ;   LISTS    OF   EMINENT 

FARMERS  AND  GRAZIERS  ;    COUNTY  FAIRS,  ETC.  ETC. 


PKINTED  AND   PUBLISHED   ANNUALLY 

BY 

J.  MORTON, 

PRINTER  AND  BOOKSELLER,  BOSTCN. 


Just  published,  price  Is. 

MORTON'S  ABRIDGMENT   OF   THE   LOCAL 
GOVERNMENT  ACT,  1858. 

ADAPTED    TO    COUNTRY    PARISHES. 

Edited  by  E.  WATMOUGH. 

This  Act  supersedes  the  present  system  of  Parochial 
management  with  respect  to  the  Highways,  Sanitary  Mea- 
sures, <£•€.;  and  provides  the  means  of  Lighting  and  Sewerage 
for  those  parishes  wherein  its  provisions  may  be  adopted. 

The  necessary  steps  for  the  adoption  and  carrying  out  of 
the  Act  are  clearly  detailed  in  plain  and  inlelhgible  language. 


BOSTON : 

Printed  and   Published  by  John   Morton,   Stamp   Office, 

Market  Place. 

London: 

SiMPKiN,  Makshall,  &  Co.,  Stationers'  Hall  Court. 

J.  &  C.  Mozley,  London  and  Derby. 


Just  published. 
A  NEW  AND  SUPERB  PORTEAIT 


OF 


THE   RIGHT   REV.   JOHN   JACKSON,   D.D., 
LORD  BISHOP  OF  LINCOLN. 

Finely  engraved  in  Mezzotinto  by  one  of  the  most  eminent 
Artists  of  the  day. 


PRICES. 

£     S.     D. 

Prints 110 

Proofs     Ill     6 

Proofs  before  Letters 2    2     0 


BOSTON: 
JOHN  MORTON,  PUBLISHER,  BOSTON. 


LINCOLN  CATHEDRAL,  1750. 

A  FINE  OLD  VIEW  FEOM  THE  KORTH-WEST,  SHOWING  THE 
SPIBES  ON  THE  WEST  TOWERS. 

By  VIVARES. 

Published  in  1750. 

Size  of  Plate,  25  inches  by  30  inches. 
Price  10s.  6d. 


BOSTON: 
JOHN  MORTON,  PRINTSELLER,  BOSTON. 


LOUTH    CHURCH, 

A  MAGNIFICENT  SOUTH-WEST  VIEW. 
Etched  by  HOWLETT,  and  Engraved  by  WILLIAMSON. 

Size  of  Plate,  16  inches  by  20  inches. 

Price  5s. 


SPILSBY    CHURCH. 

AN  ORIGINAL  LITHOGRAPHED  SOUTH-WEST  VIEW. 

Size  of  Plate  15  inches  by  18  inches. 
Prices,  3s.  (Jd. plain;  5s.  coloured. 


BOSTON: 
JOHN  MORTON,  PUBLISHER,  BOSTON. 


BOSTON    CHURCH. 

VIEWS  AND  GROUND  PLANS,  ANCIENT  AND  MODERN,  IN 
GREAT  VARIETY. 


MUCH  SENSE  IN  FEW  WORDS. 

BEING  MAXIMS  AND  SHORT  PIECES  ON  IMPORTANT 
SUBJECTS. 

CALCULATED  TO  ENLIGHTEN  THE  MIND,  AND  TO  FURNISH  MATERIALS 
FOR  THINKING. 

Collected  during  a  period  of  Fifty  Years  by   a 
Septuagenarian. 

Price  2d. 


BOSTON: 
JOHN  MORTON,  PRINTER,  MARKET  PLACE    BOSTON. 


ERRATA. 

Cuntents,  page  3'3,  "  Submarine  Telegraph"  is  by  mistake 

printed  for  "  Military  Ode." 
Note  omitted,  page  35,  "  This  is  a  simile  of  Longfellow's 

'  Sunrise  on  the  Hills.'  " 


This  book  IS  DUE  on  the  last 
date  stamped  below. 


10M-11-50(2555)470  remington  rand  inc.  23 


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